Take A Look At The Lawman
by aBlue Gillespian
Summary: The Master is shot by Lucy on the Valiant. DCI Sam Tyler is hit by a car in 2006, and wakes up in 1973. After a chase in a Manchester alley, one of them is waking up from an incident. Is Sam getting more delusional, or is the Master inheriting Sam's dreams?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Doctor Who or Life on Mars shows. They are property of BBC. But I wish I did. Sometimes I dream that I do own them but then I wake up. And I need to stop listening to the evil Master voice in my head that is promising me to give me the rights to these two shows.**

**A/N:** I finally found beta reader, so now I'll start repost the chapters that I have already posted with the edited ones. **A huge thank you to Elfinium **for offering to be my beta, and the time she is sacrificing to do this work for me.

I'm editing all the chapters now to make the Master's character more real. **A huge thank you is due to Brownbug and Elfinium for their help with the characters and all their work.**

I welcome any and all reviews. Bad, good, even flames, because there is always something to learn from every critic not only the good ones. So please fire away and let me know what you think, since this is my first posted fiction and I don't know if I'm good or bad.

* * *

><p>The first thing he knew when he resurfaced from the darkness was a bright light and the outline of a woman standing over him.<p>

Bright light? That wasn't right. The last thing The Master remembered was standing on the bridge of the Valiant, then dying in the Doctor's arms. Or was it being hit by a speeding car? No, he was sure Lucy had shot him.

"Sam, Sam? Can you hear me Sam?" The woman's voice came to him, penetrating through the fog in his mind.

"Sam it's Annie…" God how stupid was this woman? Why did she insist on calling him Sam?

He blinked repeatedly to clear his vision, and looked around. He was lying on the ground of some dirty paved Earth- probably English- street surrounded by brick walls. Now that he could see the woman better he noticed that she looked young and quite attractive, with slightly curly copper coloured hair and police uniform. She seemed worried as she tried to study his face and eyes, probably for damage.

Behind her stood two men. One middle aged, dressed in an old fashioned suit and light camel overcoat that had definitely seen better days. The man had amused expression on his face and a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. He looked to be in charge of the small group. The other man was hanging slightly back. He was of about the same age- maybe a few years younger. He had a moustache and wore grey trousers, shirt and velvet brown jacket.

'Again old fashioned' The Master thought.

"Cartwright! If you can't make Sammy-boy talk just give 'im good shove in the balls. It might wake him up," the man with the camel coat snapped at the girl.

"I think he maybe has a concussion Guv. He needs medical attention," the girl, Annie, answered with concern.

"What he needs is a stronger whack on his head." The 'Guv' said grumpily. "Oi, Dorothy, get up we already lost 'em. I don't particularly care if they spilled yer brain on the street, it won't make much difference anyway. But flash knickers here insisted on wakin' you up from your nap first. So now you have to make up for your idiocy and find 'em again." DCI Gene Hunt took a hipflask from the inside pocket of his overcoat and with a grateful sigh, took a sip.

On unsteady legs The Master got up with one hand grasping the wall to support himself and the other pressed against his throbbing head.

"Now hold on a minute! What are you talking about, and who the hell is Sam?" He almost yelled. He was becoming quite irritated now. No, scratch that, he was furious. And when the Master was furious it wasn't good for the people around him.

The man with the moustache let out a snort." They must 'ave whacked him on the head a bit too hard Guv. And I thought 'e was crazy before."

"Don't make me beat the shit outta yer again Tyler," the Guv said. "I had enough of your spaced out crazy bullshit to last me for life."

"Yeah? Really, _Guv_?" He spat the last word forcefully. He didn't know why but this bloke was getting on his nerves from the moment he opened his mouth.

The Guv stepped towards him ready to cause him some bodily damage by the look on his face, but Annie put her hand out to halt him.

"Guv please, he has a head trauma. I thought it was concussion, but it may be more serious than it looks. Let me talk to him and explain."

"Ok, Cartwright," the Guv said suddenly ignoring the WPC. "She reckons you have a head trauma, but I'm warning you, don't you ever try to play games with me Sam. I'm your DCI Gene Hunt, you better not forget that again."

"I don't care who you are," the Master growled clenching his hands into fists. "Where and when am I?"

Hunt gave his DI an incredulous look up and down. He spat out his fag then suddenly grabbed The Master roughly by the lapels and threw him against the wall.

"Did you drop your brain on the ground when you fell Sammy? Or do I look like my name is Coco?" Hunts' nose was inches away.

"Huh?"

"Are you trying to make me look like a bleeding clown you crazy, stupid Manchester United supporting POOF?" Gene demanded, lowering him to the ground. "Let's go to the pub. I need a drink." He turned on the balls of his feet and started up the street.

"I don't think he should drink alcohol if he had a head trauma Guv. Let's take you to the hospital Sam." Annie took his hand and tried to lead him away from the wall.

With the movement his vision dimmed again and he swayed gripping the wall harder. He could hear the drums starting to beat their never ceasing tempo inside his skull. However this time instead of them gradually reaching a crescendo the sound was steady. No, this wasn't the drums. The sound was all wrong. This was beeping, like the electrical beeping of a hospital life support machine.

"Sam, Sam? Can you hear me Sam?" There was a gentle voice calling him from a distance. "Please, Sam don't leave us. You need to fight. The doctors said that if you are strong, you will wake up."

Wait, Sam? Was he really called Sam? But then why did he remember being the Master? An alien? Oh Gene would have a field day if he knew what he was thinking.

Suddenly the name of Gene Hunt didn't seem so foreign. There were flashes of memory. A car speeding towards him and hitting him, throwing him on the ground. There was this music playing in the back ground. What was the song? Oh yes David Bowie's Life on Mars.

Then more flashes. Waking up in 1973. The same song playing from a car.

"Sam, Sam? Come on Sam!"

He shook his head and opened his eyes to see a concerned Annie hovering above him. Was he on the ground again?

He looked down at himself. The suit was gone, replaced by dark jeans, pinstriped shirt and leather jacket. He felt he was going to hyperventilate. Just moments ago he was so sure that he was the Master, and that the last memory was dying in the Doctor's arms after being shot by his own wife Lucy Saxon, not hit by a car. Now he wasn't so sure anymore. He didn't know who he was, and that terrified him.

"Oi, Tyler don't be such a sissy-nanny and snap out of it. We need a drink." Gene's voice snapped him back to the reality, and made him want to punch the bastard hard in the face. What right had this overweighed overweight, stinking human to order him around? He was going to show him who the one giving the orders was, the Master promised himself. Just you wait. He was the Master, his race was possibly the oldest and most powerful in the Universe. He was a Time Lord, one of the last...wasn't he? Another wave of confusion overwhelmed him. He /was/ going to show them...but not now. Now he felt too weak, too sick.

Meanwhile, Annie was trying to be the voice of reason again.

"He shouldn't drink Guv."

"Nonsense, if he can stand on his own legs, he can hold his drink. Can't you Sammy-boy?"

The Master stared blankly at the man in front of him. He could feel the strength of the man's will, weighing down on his tired and confused mind. Better to go along with whatever the humans wanted from him right at that moment. He was feeling too tired to argue, suddenly it felt like too much trouble right now. Later maybe he could work what was going on.

"Yeah," he agreed in a surly tone.

He shook his head to clear it, but as it turned out it wasn't the wisest move, because the ground began to spin and he had to take hold of the brick wall once more to steady himself. Who was he, and what was he doing here?

"Let me take you home Sam."

A gentle hand was placed on his shoulder. Annie's hand. That's right, the girl was Annie Cartwright, and he was Sam Tyler. More precisely DI Sam Tyler, how could he have forgotten that? For the first time since he opened his eyes in that dirty road he give her a dazed smile.

"Yeah better go home. Sorry Guv."

"'S alright Tyler, as long as it means I don't have to call the men wiv white coats." With that Hunt turned to the other man and said. "Pub?"

"Pub." Ray nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I've been told that i have to post disclaimer all the time, so sadly I DON'T own anything you recognise. The only thing I own is, a drawing of the Master I made a few months ago.**

**A/N: **Many thanks to **JessTheGeek **for her review and help with finding beta-reader. **Once again, a big thank you to my beta-reader Elfinim, for her quick work, I don't know what I could do without her. **Thanks also to the people who put this story on alert. Please review. As I said it doesn't have to be nice review i accept any, I'm not easily to offend person so i can stand critique. There are a few hits but only one review, must I plead for reviews or hold the chapters as a hostages until you review?

**Another big thank you to Brownbug for her help.**

* * *

><p>Annie prodded him gently in the chest.<p>

"So, home then. Do you want me to call a taxi or are you up for a walk?"

Sam looked at her and gave a tight humourless smile.

"Home..." He looked wistfully into the distance and then turned back to her. "If only I could. I don't have home anymore, you stupid girl."

She looked at him, a bit put out, but not too alarmed, as if she expected something cryptic and strange from him. But what really concerned her was Sam calling her "stupid" girl. Sam was usually the only one who treated her as an equal in the CID, but she put his strange behaviour down to his recent accident and did not comment on it.

"Why is that Sam?" she asked gently, trying to understand.

"Because it burned a long time ago, or it will burn some time later."

She stopped walking and he went a few steps further before noticing and coming back. The look on her face was one of disappointment and pity. It made him angry with her. It made him want to hurt her, to make her understand. A little ape from a backwater planet, a human, pitying him - how dare she? It took some effort to stop himself from snapping her neck in half, but he did, because he needed answers. Right now he did not know what else to do, but to be who they expected him to be.

"Sam…" she breathed with a sigh." We already went through this hundreds of times. I thought you were getting better." She shook her head and started walking again.

"Went through what?"

She gripped her handbag tighter, trying to brace herself and get some comfort.

"You were starting to act normal there for a few months; I thought that you had stopped with all the coma and time travel stories. But now…" She avoided looking at his face. "I don't know…I'll just put it down to the blow you received on the head. Because I can assure you Sam, I'm real and your apartment is still there undamaged. Now let me get you home and make you some nice tea."

"Annie…" He caught her arm.

"What?" she asked kindly.

Despite her disappointment with him, she was still kind and friendly. Why that even mattered to him, he couldn't say. After all, why the hell should he care what she thought of him? But for some reason that at the moment completely escaped him, he couldn't help smiling at her, even if it was only faintly. His inability to control his emotions unnerved him.

"What if I tell you, that my name is not Sam and I'm not human?"

Her face was filled with pity. Here was the pity again. He clenched his hands into tight fists, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palms.

"I'd say that you either hit your head too hard, or I was wrong and you really need professional help."

"Yeah," he sighed dejectedly, not really having the strength to argue any further.

"About my home Annie, it burned, it did." He released her arm and started down the road confidently, for some strange reason knowing exactly where to go.

"Is that why you asked to be transferred here from Hyde?" Annie asked increasing her pace to match his. How he could keep this speed after being knocked out for almost 5 min, she didn't know.

"It might have been." He answered, not wanting to start another pointless argument that he didn't even know if he could prove.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to his place. There wasn't much they could talk about without him sounding even more insane than she already thought he was. He needed to work out what had happened on his own, because, he was fairly sure that it wasn't as simple as hitting his head and getting amnesia. Upon reaching his destination he looked up at the building and sighed. It was made out of bricks, standard council flat accommodation. The walls must have been painted once, but what was left now was only a flicker of peeling paint here and there, so now the red-ish bricks were visible. The building looked old, sad and pathetic.

'How conveniently matched for my depressed mood, maybe my brain made up the place I live to show the way I feel.' He thought. Maybe this place was built with the sole purpose to make him feel hopeless. He opened the entrance door for Annie and followed her up the stairs to his flat, which wasn't in a much more cheerful state than the façade of the block.

He looked around it with disdain as if for the first time. There was the iron-folding bed, which he did not think he even slept on, but he had the strange vague feeling that he remembered how uncomfortable it was. On his left and almost in front of the bed was an old TV, which, he recalled, seemed to always stay turned on and showed this blasted girl and her clown that plagued his nightmares. The apartment was a ceiling extension studio flat. It consisted of only one room separated into a bedroom and kitchenette. The only other room was a small bathroom. He looked sceptically at the furniture, which despite being sparse looked to overcrowd the small place. His entire furniture consisted of only two cupboards, two unmatched chairs, on one of which the fabric was torn showing the stuffing. 'What a luxurious place, I have here,' he thought sarcastically. If nothing else this place made him to wish for his nice posh bedroom on the Valiant. This place held the air of a damp old burrow, despite having enough light through the two big windows. It was a place where the inhabitant was not intending to stay for long, a place that had not been used to being lived in, only somewhere to crash at night. Even the pattern on the wallpaper didn't match everywhere.

Leaving him to sit on the bed Annie made her way to the kitchenette of the small apartment. She put the kettle on and prepared two mugs of tea, when Sam's voice carried to her from the other room.

"Annie, tell me what happened in the alley?" He asked.

She came through the door caring two streaming mugs of tea and handing one to him, before sitting on the chair opposite the bed.

"We had a shout for gold smith's store robbery connected to the same gang that Ray has been investigating for a couple of weeks now." She took a tentative sip from the hot liquid before continuing. "We took the car, but they were already out and running so we jumped out of the Cortina and chased after them. Not surprisingly you were ahead." She smiled at him through the rim of her mug.

"I would be surprised if it was the Guv." Sam smirked.

"Yeah. And what with me and me skirt. I'll tell you it's really hard to run in me skirt and me heels." She chuckled. "After chasing them down four or five streets, they started to put more distance between us, the next moment they turned a corner and we couldn't see 'em no more. Then you went after them and we lost sight of you as well." She took another sip. "We heard a thud and when we finally turned the corner there you were lying on the street completely out of it and the gang nowhere to be seen."

"So, I received a nasty whack on me head and suddenly woke up remembering being shot by my wife instead of being hit by a car?" He looked sharply at her after hearing her frustrated sigh.

"But why am I here, uumm? If you're so clever, Earth girl, then tell me what I'm doing here?" He shook his head. He couldn't answer this question himself, his head hurt too much right now. "I should be dead or regenerating. Everything seems so wrong."

Annie put her mug on top of the TV with a sharp clack and stood up. It really wasn't like Sam to be so mean, but calling her Earth girl was too much.

"Don't need to be so mean Sam. I can see when my company is not wanted anymore."

Moving to stand in front of him she placed one hand on his chest, palm pressing gently against his ribcage.

"I can assure you Sam that you are very much alive. Your heart is beating, I can feel it. Get some sleep; I'll see you at work tomorrow." She took her purse without waiting him to reply and made for the door.

"Wait, you said heart; as in one heart?" He asked the empty room desperately.

Dismissing it as another confusing piece of information he lay on the bed exhausted. Why it shouldn't be only one, he didn't know. After all, humans supposed to have one heart, weren't they?

He closed his eyes trying to get some sleep. He could feel a pain starting to form in his head. A steady drum beat was pounding inside his skull.

When he opened his eyes there was someone in his flat standing next to the door. The young girl was approximately eight years old and was hugging a clown doll, she was whistling to herself.

"Oh, hello Master, you are finally awake." She chirped happily.

"Why do you call me Master? Everyone here is calling me Sam." He asked confused and frightened. He backed away when she stepped closer to his bed.

"But aren't you our Lord and Master?" She asked innocently mocking him. "Do you still hear them?"

"Hear what?"

"The drums Dumbo. They are so loud, aren't they? "She stepped even closer making him recoil further. He fell to the floor. "They make you do things, nasty things don't they?"

"Stop!" He whispered crawling backwards until he hit the wall and had nowhere else to go.

"Do you still hear the screams Sam?"

"Stop it!" He said again digging with his nails into the wall, behind him. Then he realised with surprise. "You called me Sam?"

"You didn't like me calling you Master. Was it because of the guilt?" She sing- songed. "All that death, all that blood. Kill them; remove ten per cent of the population." She was almost at his feet now. "Fly and slice and kill, fly and slice and kill…" She chanted.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything you will**** recognise here. I don't even own a decent car. Do you honestly think that if I owned ****these**** shows I would share a flat with two other people?**

**A/N: **Once again please tell me what you think when you read this. I know some people read this, as there are some hits on the story traffic. Please tell me if there is even a point to waste my time in writing it? **Again thank you, to my beta Elfimin for the great work, she is my savior.**

**A/N2: **My beta advised me to make clear the time lines, but I forgot to do it in the first 2 chapters, so I'm going to do it now here. First I want to say that the story is NON CANNON, because if I have to stick to cannon, I won't be able to write this story at all. The time line for LOM is somewhere between series 1 and 2, or in the begining of series 2. For the Doctor is somewhere between "Last Of The Time Lords" and "Partners In Crime", and for Torchwood, somewhere in the begining of series 2.

* * *

><p>The drums now were starting to increase in volume, pounding in his head, covering every other sound. They muffled even the Test Card Girls' screams and chant; all that existed at this moment was this blasted noise inside his head.<p>

"NO!" He jerked awake with a start realising that the loud banging noise wasn't inside his head, but was coming from the door of his flat along with the shouts of his DCI.

"Oi, Tyler, open this door!" Gene's voice came a moment before the door was forced open.

Sam sighed. If Gene kept on doing this, he would need soon a new door.

"Great, Gene, couldn't you wait just a moment for me to open it?" Sam asked getting up from his bed and rubbing his face with his hands. He still felt confused and frightened from the dream. Taking a deep breath, he went to the sink to wash his tired eyes. "I'm not cuffed to the bed naked this time, no need to break my door down."

"I was knocking on this door for about five minutes without getting any reaction from you, and I was quite pissed off as it was without you ignoring me." Gene went to the TV and picked up the mug of tea, after taking a sniff he put it down with a look of disgust. "It's 10am and I've been looking for you. Phyllis said you didn't show up in CID today. We have a dead bod, that is incidentally a gang member, and my DI is sleeping soundly at home."

"I was supposed to have a free day for medical reasons." Sam screwed up his face at Gene.

"I knew you are a sissy-Nancy, but that's rich." Hunt said grumpily . "Some of the girls in the station have more balls than you Sammy-boy."

He rubbed his temples in irritation and closed his eyes tightly to regain control of his nerves. He was sure that one of these days, he would throttle Gene Hunt.

"Have you ever heard of health and safety?" He asked the Guv.

"Yeah they checked the toilets for germs last month." Gene said off-hand as he exited the apartment, still leaving the door wide open. He shouted from the corridor. "I want you in the CID in half an hour.

Sam rubbed his face with the palms of his hands, willing this headache to go away. He didn't need another to go with the one Gene Hunt was constantly causing him. For a moment there was a blessed silence and then the beeping noise of the heart monitor started again. He put his hands up to cover his ears, trying to block out the sound, but like the drums the beeping was inside his head and nothing could stop it.

"_Doctor…_" _A woman's voice sounded agitated. The word 'Doctor' jolted something inside of him, causing him to __shiver involuntarily__. "His heart rate is increasing, he seems agitated."_

"_Did you leave him alone again nurse?"_

"_Just for a moment, but he seemed ok."_

"_Give him something calming."_

He was on his knees now, gasping for breath. He felt the needle prick on his skin and all the noises faded, leaving him kneeling on the floor of his apartment. Remembering the Guv's order, he dressed quickly, took his leather jacket from the back of the chair and hurried out.

* * *

><p>Phyllis was sitting at her desk, doing the normal tedious paper work for the detainees of the day. Her expression was set in the usual bored-stern way which only she could pull off and still look like the female of the species. All she could think about was 'Another day, another few scum-bags to deal with.' The bloody day had just started, but she already couldn't wait to get as far away from CID, as possible.<p>

With a loud bang, the door to the station was flung open and DCI Gene Hunt marched towards her desk. He was holding a young man, barely out of his teens, by the scruff of his neck. The lad was clearly scared of her DCI. Ray was following behind like a puppy. Gene pushed the boy hard against the desk, spilling Phyllis' coffee on a just finished report.

"See if you can find him an empty cell love. I'll get him for interrogation later." Hunt ordered, completely ignoring her look of disdain. She was left without coffee and additional work, as she opening her mouth to complain she was halted as the DCI asked, "Oh, and has Tyler come yet?"

"No." She answered sharply. "And what am I supposed to do with this one? I have paper work to fill."

"You can just let me go?" The boy tried hopefully.

"Yeah? Just because you got to ride in the Cortina you thought I was just playing taxi driver?" Gene huffed. He turned to Phyllis. "Sod the paperwork, I need you to take care of him until I come back from pathology."

* * *

><p>.<p>

Pathology took place in a dark and cold room, completely the opposite of the large, well lit, clean and modern pathology he was used to. The only light, apart from the pale daylight coming from the door, was from a flickering bulb. It made him feel claustrophobic. The blasted drums seemed to echo through the empty room. He struggled to suppress them and focus on the task in hand. Breathing heavily, he made his way to the body lying on the sole gurney in the middle of the room. The body was indeed as Gene said one of the gangs' members. The boy looked to be in his mid-twenties, his naked body was half covered by sheet across his waist.

Sam took a pair of rubber gloves and approached the body. There were no visible marks to suggest a struggle or clear evidence for the case of death. The skin was undamaged, the face and head showed no bruising. The only cause he could think of was suffocation. However the tongue was not swollen, he opened the eyes but found no blood red marks to confirm his theory.

He was preparing the instruments for further investigation when the door to the morgue flew open with a bang. The bulk of Gene Hunt blew in with the force of an avalanche, followed by Chris and Ray.

"Oh there you are Gladys! Tell me what we've got."

"Call me Gladys one more time…" The DI growled.

"And you'll what? Hit me with your handbag?" Hunt spat into his face. "Now go back to work and stop freaking out, or is one dead body too much for you to stomach these days?"

"Oh, you have no idea." He hissed and took his place beside Chris, motioning for DC Skelton to hand him the forensics report.

Sam took the manila folder and scanned the information printed on it.

"So, there are no visible wounds, no head trauma and nothing to suggest suffocation, or any other forceful case of death." He handed the folder back to Chris and carefully lifted the head to take a look at the victims' back. "No hidden wounds." He turned to Gene. "Where did you find the body?"

"The scrap yard, he was dumped there in the night most likely as no one has seen anything or no one wants to talk." Ray answered instead of his DCI, who was unusually quiet. He was looking intently at Sam Tyler.

"Chris, has the pathologist checked the stomach contents for anything suspicious?" Sam asked.

"Yes boss, there is nothing there. No health issues either." Chris handed him another folder.

"Did you dust for fingerprints?"

"It was a scrap yard boss. Hundreds of different fingerprints, blokes go there to screw their birds." Chris and Ray snickered.

"From the body Chris, not from the crime scene."

Chris gave him blank look. Sam realised that he was in an era that didn't have the means to perform high-tech investigation.

"Nothing…" He dismissed it. "So, blood results?"

"Don't have them yet, but I don't think we will learn anything more from it."

Gene Hunt finally snapped out of his trance. He had still been staring at his DI. "Our best lead is waiting for us at the station in one of the cells." He said, "Let's not waste any more time here."

"It's a right riddle though boss, what happened to the guy?" Chris shook his head and left with Ray.

Gene stayed behind to wait for his DI who was tidying up his tools.

"Tyler, what is it with your accent?"

"What do you mean, Guv?" Sam asked his DCI confused.

"Yer accent has changed you plonk, it's a bit… off."


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I still don't own anything.**

**A/N:** I'm not going to plead for reviews anymore, although the reviews are the writers' food. If you don't review my plead bunny will starve and die and I'll abandon this story. **Another thank you to my beta Elfinium, for sacrifacing her time.**

* * *

><p>The interrogation room was actually the 'Lost property' room; 'A' Division used it because it had the thickest walls. It held an air of foreboding with its dusty shelves and foul smell of old, damp paper and burnt tobacco.<p>

In the middle of the room, between the shelves filled with long lost and forgotten items, stood a lone table and three chairs, currently occupied by three men.

DCI Gene Hunt placed his pack of cigarettes on the table in front of him and lit the one in his mouth. He took a long draw from the fag and exhaled loudly before leaning further back in his chair and folding his arms.

"So… My DI here is really keen on the introductions and tape-recording but I prefer to skip the formalities and get straight to the point." Hunt grunted, throwing a meaningful glance at DI Tyler. Sam opened his mouth to comment but changed his mind, instead pressing the play and record buttons on the tape-recorder. Gene ignored him and continued his questioning. "Tell me who killed Thomas Morris?"

The boy looked blankly at him and then turned to Sam. "Tom is dead?" He asked in surprise.

"Yeah, dead as a door nail." Gene said taking another drag from his fag and exhaling loudly again. "Do you have a short memory, or brain damage?"

"I don't understand." The boy replied nervously.

"Well obviously you or one of your buddies killed him, then you lot dumped him in the scrap yard."

"Guv!" Sam hissed under his breath.

"I don't know anything Mr Hunt, I swear."

"Do you know that swearing is bad?" Gene asked in a patronising tone.

The boy shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but his face met the back of Gene Hunt's hand.

"Stop playing Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumb with me and start spilling the truth now." Pressing the almost finished fag into the ashtray, Hunt took the boy by the lapels of his shirt, drawing him up to eye level. The stench of stale whiskey hit the boy in the face. "You better tell me what you know now, because otherwise I'll find the darkest, filthiest and coldest cell for you and lock you in there to rot. I know you are as guilty as a Sodom's sinner, so you might as well save us some time and pain." With this said he dropped the boy back in the chair.

Until then Sam had remained silent. He got up from his chair and barked at his DCI.

"Guv…a word!"

Gene's face clouded even further with fury, his bad temper flaring to dangerous levels. He lifted himself from his seat and grabbing Sam roughly by his neck, dragged him behind one of the numerous shelves.

"What do you want now Dorothy?"

"Let me talk to him Guv. He's scared." Sam tried to reason with Gene, although he knew it was pretty much a lost cause.

"'Course he is bloody scared, he knows something." Gene barked back.

"But it doesn't mean he's a killer." Sam argued, his voice was becoming sharper. He usually wasn't an ill tempered man, but his DCI was bringing out the worst in him. He could also feel a strange and alien anger; it did not help the situation.

"He is hiding something and that's enough for me to lock him up for months." Hunt scoffed, his own patience with his DI wearing thin.

"But, we have no evidence and no reason to keep him Guv. You can't just keep him in custody, because you don't like the aftershave he's wearing."

Gene took hold of Sam's shoulders and shoved him face first into the metal frame of one of the shelves.

"Do I have to remind you, that the last time you let someone out because we didn't have enough evidence one of our birds almost died, Sammy-boy?" He hissed into Sam's ear. Sams' temper flared, he shoved his elbow into Gene's gut.

"It wasn't my fault." Sam shouted at the panting Guvnor.

They stood glaring at each other, neither prepared to give way. Eventually Sam returned to the interrogation table and resumed the recording of the interview.

"I'm DI Sam Tyler, and I'm going to do this interview from now on. What is your name?"

"Billy Clarke"

"Ok, Billy, can you tell me, when did you last see Thomas Morris?" Sam asked calmly.

"Last night in the bar."

"What, he didn't pay his round, so you killed him?" Gene asked angrily.

"Guv! Shut it will you?" Sam sniped at Gene before turning his attention back to Billy.

"I didn't kill him!" Billy answered nervously.

"No one said you killed him, Billy." Sam tried to calm him while simultaneously throwing murderous looks at Gene. "Can you tell me, if he had some other meeting later? Maybe he mentioned a name? Or going to the scrap yard?"

"No!" Billy answered a bit too quickly. He was on the edge.

"Are you sure?" Sam pressed.

"No, y-yes, I'm sure… He didn't mention any name… We left the bar after a few drinks to celebrate… job well done and then everyone went home." Billy explained.

"Job well done?" Gene asked. "What, like robbing the gold smith? Was that why Thomas died? He didn't want to share?" By the end of his questions Gene was leaning over the boy threateningly with both hands on the table.

"No, I told you, I know nothing about the killing." The boy was trembling now. "We didn't really rob the shop, we only had to take one ring, nothing else, and then just collect the money for the job."

"I knew you were guilty." Gene barked.

"I only watched outside for coppers." Billy pleaded, genuinely frightened.

"Did you know the person, the one you had to give the ring to?" Sam asked.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you. Please!"

"Ok, forget about the name of this person. Can you tell me what kind of ring it was?" Sam tried again.

Now Billy started to really shake and tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He backed away from Sam, unconsciously trying to find protection behind Gene Hunt.

"The ring on your hand." Billy pointed to Sam's right hand. "That ring is the same as the one we had to get from the gold smith."

Sam dragged his shocked eyes from Billy's fearful face to his ring finger and then to Gene.

"I didn't realise you were such a fairy that you wear rings Tyler?" Gene mocked.

"I don't." Sam's voice came as a whisper in his shock. "I don't even remember having it until now." He cast another look at the ring and lifted his hand to see it better in the lamp light. The ring was massive, made out of silver with a large, round head and some strange circular engravings.

"Great, my DI has entered the land of Oz again and in the middle of an interrogation none the less." Gene took the boy by the scruff of his neck and handed him to the PC's outside the 'Lost property' room. "We are finished here, get him back to the cell and don't let him out until I say so!"

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later nothing had really happened in the CID. There were no new bodies but there was no new information either.<p>

Sam had send Annie down to the archive. She was searching for the profile of someone who might have form for trying to fence rare or old jewels. Chris was down in the mortuary collecting blood test results and Ray was sitting at his desk, feet up, chewing loudly on his gum whilst completely ignoring the paper work he had to do. DCI Hunt sat in his smoke fogged office, fuming silently.

Sam was at his desk, going through Thomas' statement and the files Annie had found on the gang and dodgy antique traders. The drums were echoing loudly, bouncing off the walls of the room. He wondered how no-one but him could hear them.

"Would you stop that bloody noise?" DS Carling snapped, not able to take any more of the DIs' tapping.

Sam looked up from the folder in surprise.

"You can hear it too?" He asked hopeful.

Gene chose that moment to leave his office. "Of course he can hear it, I can hear it. Come to think of it, I'm sure Cartwright can hear it in the bloody archives."

"What?" Sam asked shocked.

"Yer tapping, you twat." Gene snapped at him. "Stop it, or I swear…"

"Oh…" He sighed in disappointment. Looking down at his hand he noticed it resting on the desk with his middle and forefingers held on the edge and the other three fingers folded. He hadn't even registered that he was tapping the rhythm of the drums. "Sorry, I didn't realise I was doing it. It must be some song I've heard somewhere that got stuck in my head."

"You better get it out of your head, or I'll dig it out for you, it's bloody annoying." With that Gene returned to his office, slamming the door.

Chris approached Sam's desk nervously after the DCIs' outburst. He handed the folder with the blood results to DI Tyler and crept back to his own desk, instantly pretending to busy himself with some paper work that probably should have been done days ago. Sam took one look at the results and jumped up from his chair. He threw the door to Hunt's office open with a bit more force than was necessary causing the glass to rattle.

"What do you want now? A hug, because you feel lonely?" Gene asked, his tone bored.

"DC Skelton just gave me the blood results for Thomas Morris. There are traces of heroin in his blood." Sam said hoping that the Guv would listen to him for once and that they would finally have something to work on.

"A junkie then. Should've known not to waste my time."

"You don't get it, do you?" Sam asked.

"No, I don't. Please enlighten me Sherlock!" Gene said feigning interest.

"Heroin, is not popular until the middle of the '80s. Right now the popular drugs are LSD, hashish, cocaine and marijuana. Heroin is an '80s drug." Sam tried to make his DCI see reason, forgetting for a moment that this was DCI Gene Hunt. Gene ignored the strange references. They were normal for his DI.

"A new drug then? I'll have to make sure that whoever is selling new drugs in my city goes behind bars. However, a dead junkie is just a waste of time." He replied stubbornly. "It's not my problem if some scum has decided to check out early, as long as it's not affecting humble citizens."

"Being addicted is not a crime Guv, it's an illness. But that's a discussion for another time. The thing is, he wasn't an addict, and there are no marks on him, besides the pathologist didn't find any damaged organs or health problems apart from these few traces of heroin in his blood." Sam argued.

"So, he wanted to have a first taste but had the bad luck for it to be his last too. Poor sod."

"The traces are of heroin are not enough to kill even a first timer it must have been cut with something else. Guv, let alone someone who uses frequently. There is no way the heroin killed him. that poisoned the blood, the problem is this something is some new or rare chemical and this archaic machinery here can't find it.".

"Then we go and bring in all the new and suspicious blokes in the city." Gene got up from behind his desk. "Let's clean the streets of a few scum-bags and junkies."

"Guv, we have nothing! Only a few traces of something unknown in the heroin, which alone, could not have killed him." Sam stood at the door barring his way. "We can't just go on a hunch and start breaking down doors and arresting random people. We need to go by the book here, with proper procedures."

Gene pushed him out of the way and shouted for Chris and Ray to fire up the Cortina.

"You didn't hear a world, I just said, did you?" Sam asked in frustration as he jogged after Gene.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: No matter how strong I wish, or how many chapters, I write I still don't own the rights for ****these**** two shows.**

**A/N:** Still unbetaed. I try to keep writing it, but any chapter become less quality, because I lose interest in writing without having any reviews.

The Cortina sped through the streets of Manchester, way above the speed limit, announcing to the citizens, that 'A' Division was on the way to a shout.

"Guv…" Sam tried to yell, but actually only managed a grunt through gritted teeth. He was clinging to the door handle for dear life. "Slow down a bit! You're going to kill someone."

"Don't worry Gladys, they all know not to walk in front of the car. Beside you can hear us coming from three streets away and clear out." Gene retorted, twisting the steering wheel violently to take a sharp turn. The tyres screeched on the asphalt as the car clipped a couple of tin rubbish bins spilling rubbish all over the street. Gene swung to the right narrowly missing a mother with a baby buggy. "Oi, you! Shift!" Gene shouted steadying the car.

Sam felt like his stomach would turn upside down and empty every meal he'd had that day when Hunt hit the brakes bringing the car to an abrupt halt. Sam's head hit the dashboard sending sharp pains through his already aching head. He rubbed his palm on his forehead and promised himself that Gene Hunt would pay for the pain.

"If you are going to throw up, it had better not be in my car Tyler!" Hunt snapped before opening the door and jumping out.

Sam stayed rooted to his seat trying to catch his breath and push the contents of his stomach back down. He opened the door and followed Hunt. Ray was already leaning on the boot. He lit a cigarette and threw Tyler an amused look.

"Head still messy, boss?" Ray smirked taking another drag from the cigarette.

Sam ignored the comment and left him and Chris gossiping about which plonks they'd tried to go out with. Jogging slightly to catch up with his DCI, Sam took a look around. The area was miserable and probably full of junkies. It was the poor area of the city, on the other side of the canal. Gene had stopped in front of a house from which loud rock music blasted without any consideration for the peace of the neighbours. Hunt banged heavily on the door few times and when no one opened, he moved to kick it in. "Guv, wait!" Sam ran up to him. "We don't have warrant to enter and search this house."

Gene lifted up his fist up and waved it in Sam's face. "You see this? This is my warrant."

The younger man rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance.

"_Guv…_" He stressed the word, trying to get his superior's attention. "There are procedures, standards and rules, which have to be followed in situation like this one. Even by someone like you."

Gene regarded him calmly. He pointed a finger at Sam's chest.

"Now, listen to me… carefully!" He huffed. "I don't need warrant to keep my city safe. Is that how you worked in the almighty…Hyde? While you fannied around getting a warrant, the junkies and the killers would be long gone." Gene was on a roll again. "In my city, I stop the crime, before it spreads."

"So, what are we doing here?" Sam had learned by now to ignore Gene's jibs about Hyde. Beside it's not like he really cared about the place, he'd never even been to Hyde; if such a place existed at all.

"We are breaking in." Hunt answered matter of factly, before kicking the door clean off its hinges.

He ran inside, shouting above the noise of the full room. "You are surrounded by armed bastards!"

The revellers however seemed unconcerned. The cops' entrance did not stop them doing what they were doing. There were couples dancing, some of them completely out of time to the music. The two coppers weren't sure if the dancers even heard the music but rather danced to some inner beat of their own. Not all of the occupants however were involved in such innocent activities. There were a few people playing cards, smoking (what did not necessarily smell like normal cigarettes), or in plain sight shooting up with shared needles.

Sam turned his head away from the addicts, he was from the future and knew how dangerous using the same needle was. If the drugs did not kill them then there were other illnesses that would. HIV was still unknown, but soon enough the first case would be discovered. While the DI was lost in his thoughts, Hunt went to the stereo and turned the music off. It took several minutes for the room's occupants to actually realise what had happened and stop their activities. They stared at the imposing figure of one Gene Hunt.

"Mr Hunt!" Exclaimed a young man with scruffy clothes, which matched the rest of his general appearance. His hair was greasy and he looked in desperate need of shower. "You can't just barge in here like this Mr Hunt… Sir. I have already been to sign in at the station and had my meeting with my assigned officer."

"Well, it looks like you are breaking your probation with the party we see here." Gene leaned on the door frame and took a fag from his pocket. "However, I'm not here for this. I don't give a flying tit what are you killing yourself with, but I have dead body pumped with some new drug." Gene took a deep drag from his fag and lifted a full bottle of scotch from one of the tables. His DI looked at him with disgust. "Now you are a junkie and know most of the dealers around here. Tell me, do you know about any one new?"

"I know nothing Mr Hunt, you know that I haven't been using for months." The man protested.

"So, what is this then, sugar?" Sam finally spoke. "Answer the question, or the next time, I'm going to come back with warrant for your arrest!"

Gene smirked, nodding his head towards Sam Tyler. "You better do as he says. This one here is a new kind of copper and when he gets the paperwork done, the spelling is flawless."

"I'm telling the truth, I don't know about any new dealers 'round here. A friend of mine told me that he heard from someone about some new drug. He said it was better than what we do now, it calms you down and doesn't mess with your head. But he didn't say who he got it from… he said some bird had some extra with her and shared it with him."

"Good boy Jimmy." Gene praised. "Carry on gentlemen." The DCI pocketed the unopened bottle of scotch. "You are not going to need this." With that he turned on his heels and exited the house, closely followed by his DI.

"Chris, Ray, go back to the station and try to find any information on some bird who's recently moved into the city. There is no description, but you can send some of our girls to ask around the places wherever it is that birds go out."

There was a cracking, static noise from the radio in Sam's hand and he lifted it to answer. He pushed the 'go' button, but the only noise apart from the static was a steady beat; the same beat as the drums in his head. He shook the radio, but couldn't hear anything on the other end, until a muffled voice came through it.

"Regenerate!" A distinctive voice pleaded. "It can't end like this…" The voice broke.

Sam staggered against the wall breathing raggedly. He tried to replace the full gulps of air that had just been knocked out of his lungs. He shook the radio again.

"What did you just say?" He whispered barely audible.

"It doesn't have end like this Sir. Please calm down!" The female spoke directly into the radio. "We have a problem with violent addict on King's Avenue."

"Annie, is that you?" Sam tried again, his voice sounded more confident this time.

"Who else can it be Sam? Urgent assistance required! Repeat, urgent assistance required!"

"We are coming Annie, just keep out of trouble!" Sam reassured her. He kept the radio to hand just in case. "Guv, problem with violent drug user on King's Avenue there is officer in need of back up." Sam gave the message to Gene Hunt as they jumped in the Cortina. For once he was glad that Hunt didn't respect other road users or speed limits.

"Annie, talk to me. What is the situation there?"

"The guy is destroying everything around the grocers. I've tried to stop him Sir, but I can't." The girl sounded worried.

"Don't get into trouble Annie, just wait for us! We are on our way."

"Oh… God… Sir!" Annie's voice now was on the verge of panic. "The guy is having some kind of fit… something is wrong." Then she broke off. "Sir, are you ok? Can you hear me?" She picked the radio again. "Sam, he's not responding. Wait, the seizure has stopped." There was more static and the sound of movements. "He is dead…there is no pulse. He just suddenly dropped and died."


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I still don't own anything that you might recognise here. All is property of BBC and I'm merely borrowing it, not with a big success may I add.**

**A/N:** An infinite, huge THANK YOU to **tardis-mole **for his help with some medical stuff, without him this story could have never been continued. I also what to thank my beta Elfinium again for all her hard work.

* * *

><p>By the time they arrived, a crowd had already gathered. Peoples' curiosity was drawing them to the scene like flies to rotting food. Gene drove the Cortina straight through the crowd. They were forced to jumped out of the way to avoid being run over.<p>

"Oi, you lot, shift" Hunt shouted and skidded the car to a stop in front of the ruined grocery shop. Jumping out he sent Chris and Ray to deal with the crowd while he followed Sam Tyler into the shop.

Inside, the scene was one of destruction. It showed no structure or any purpose other than just mindless vandalism. Annie was standing next to a body lying on the floor. She looked visibly shaken, but was still trying to calm the distressed owner.

"Annie, luv, don't worry, we are here now. We'll take over." Gene came to stand beside her. He knelt next to the body. "Did he go feral?"

"I…I… don't know Guv." Annie stammered. Sam put a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. "The shopkeeper said the boy entered the shop and seemed calm. He was looking to buy some beer but quickly started to get impatient and agitated. When I arrived he was already trashing the place and then he went into a seizure."

"It's ok, Annie." Sam reassured her gently "Calm down, we are going to sort this out and find what happened."

"I can tell you what 'appened straight away." Gene grunted angrily "This guy was a junkie. Probably had too strong a fix or was withdrawing cold turkey and couldn't take it." Gene got up with a grunt and brushed some imaginary dust from his trousers. "Now, I don't care how they live their miserable lives, but when they start disturbing the peace of the people in my city, that becomes my problem!" He turned to the paramedics who had arrived on the scene a bit too late to be of any use. "Take him to the morgue!"

The three police officers left the shop in silence. Chris and Ray, were still trying to break up the crowd and send people away.

"Come on folks, there is nothing to see here! Go home, eat dinner and watch TV!" Chris was trying to shoo them off, while Ray was standing in front of the shop window to block the view inside.

"Oi, bugger off!" Gene Hunt shouted to the assembled people. "It's just a dead body, nothing much to see. 'S not even bloody."

"That's just the thing Guv." Sam was trying to get Gene's attention. "There is no blood anywhere on his body, coming out of his nose or mouth, nothing to suggest anything that could have killed him."

"Yeah, except the drugs he used." Hunt pointed out.

"They don't kill this way. Drugs kill either really slowly, or cause a quick heart attack, but not like this." Sam reasoned with his DCI.

"I still say it's the drugs. You said there is a new drug in town." Gene would not give up. "Let's go to the office and do some work."

When 'A' Division arrived back at the station, the front desk was in uproar. Phyllis was arguing with a tall guy dressed all in black, his raven hair was slicked back and he wore a goatee.

"Sir, I can't release Billy Clarke without asking DCI Hunt for permission." Phyllis was trying to stay calm and polite, but it was obvious that her patience was wearing thin after repeating the same argument a dozen times over. Her discomfort was increased further by the intense look of the man. She was trying to avoid looking into his eyes, which seemed impossible to look at for long without starting to feel lost and dizzy.

"Now, Madam, we can either do this in a nice and polite way, or I will come back later with a court order for his release because you are holding him here unreasonably." The man in the black suit said confidently.

"Who the 'ell are you?" DCI Hunt demanded slamming his hands on the desk.

"I'm Billy's lawyer." The man produced a black leather wallet from the inside pocket of his suit and showed it to Gene and Phyllis.

"Billy don't have lawyer!" Gene said. "He doesn't even know what the word means."

"Well he has now. His family called my office and asked me to represent him."

Through all this DI Sam Tyler was unusually quiet. He was staring at the man who introduced himself as Billy Clarke's lawyer. His head felt heavy and the drums inside his skull were becoming louder and more frantic. All the blood had drained from his face and he felt sick. Breathing heavily to push the nausea back, he leaned on the desk for support, something solid to remind him of something that was real. 'This isn't happening! It's not possible! This isn't real!' He kept on telling himself over and over again.

"You alright Tyler?" Gene asked him. The Guv was angry because he could do nothing except release Clarke and hand him over to this dandy wearing a goatee. What kind of man wears goatee in 1973 anyway? A lawyer, he thought, probably a fairy too.

"Yeah, yeah…" Sam exhaled quickly. "I'm ok, just need a bit of air. If you will excuse me..?" Without waiting for an answer, he left the room, needing to be as far away from the man as possible. Leaving Gene Hunt to deal with a frustrated Phyllis and supposed lawyer, Sam hurried towards the bathroom, his favourite place to escape. Not really paying attention on where he was walking, he ran into Annie in the corridor.

"Sam, are you ok?" She asked with concern studying his pale face. "You look, like you have seen a ghost."

"I feel like it too." He answered her, distracted. "What about you? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, one of the girls here gave me something, she said it will calm me nerves." She smiled at him.

"What's going on Annie? I haven't seen you for some time then the moment we parked you were off without even talking to me."

"That's because I've been avoiding ya again, Sam." Annie answered cheekily.

"'Please shag me, I'm in coma', didn't work before. If I say 'Please shag me, my wife shot me', will it work this time?" He joked and smiled at her, but the result was the opposite.

"No need to be so rude." She snapped and stormed off along the corridor.

"Shit!" He murmured, he was losing his touch with women, but he was in shock, so it was probably a good excuse. He had forgotten about UNIT and the Doctor in the '70s. But the puzzling thing was, he should have remembered being in Manchester in the middle of decade and he didn't. Something was meddling not only with his head, but with time and with the people around here. Strangely enough, he felt protective of the people in this city, and he was determined to find out what the threat was.

His deep reverie was broken by a furious DCI Gene Hunt, who took him by the lapels of his leather jacket and slammed his back into the wall with the force of a hurricane.

"The parents of this kid, and the boy 'imself didn't know we were holding him 'ere unreasonably. Am I right to assume that you, Mr by-the-book-righteous-bastard decided to open their eyes?" Gene Hunt spat in Sam's face.

"He has the right to know, we can't just decide who we want to keep in custody!" Sam shouted back, trying to shrug the Guv off.

"In this nick, I decide if we hold someone in a cell or not! Not some holier-than-thou copper from Hyde!" Gene spat before letting go of his jacket. "I'm done with this place for today, but the first thing tomorrow I want to see you in the morgue with the results on the last death!" He turned his back on the DI and poked his head through the door to CID. "Skelton, Carling it's beer time!"

"Guv, I'm not coming. There is tons of paperwork to be done, and files to be looked through." Sam sighed.

"Suit yourself Sammy-boy, but you are not making me do paperwork. I'm not a paper mole like you." Gene said dismissively "By the way, what did you do to Cartwright? She was fuming."

"Nothing!" Sam said defensively "I guess I've just been spending way too much time with you."

* * *

><p>He tried to work on the files and reports after the second death in less than 24 hours, but the empty room was making him feel uneasy. It was too… silent, leaving him with too much opportunity to think with nothing to distract him. He could not stop his thoughts going back to Clarkes' lawyer, it couldn't be just a coincidence, but what was he supposed to do now?<p>

The only other person he could see still there, apart from himself, was Phyllis. She was obviously bored, staring off into the distance and tapping her pen on the desk, making a poor attempt to look as if she was doing some work. Phyllis' tapping and the monotonous ticking of the clock on the wall were the only noise. Each tick of the clock hung ominously in the air measuring the passing of the time, making him, for the first time, conscious of his now human persona and how little time he had.

His wandering thoughts and state of mind made it impossible to concentrate on any work. Making the decision to follow Gene's example, he sighed in frustration and left the uncompleted paperwork on the desk.

"I'm done here for today!" He said to Phyllis when he passed her on the way out. "I'm going to the pub for a drink. See you tomorrow."

She just grunted in acknowledgment and looked at the clock to see how much time she had left before her shift was over.

* * *

><p>The Railway Arms was the 'A' Division's place of escape from the problems of the world. It still was early so the pub wasn't full apart from the occasional costumer and of course 'A' Division who never missed a night. The barman, a dark skinned Jamaican was polishing a glass that already sparkled, but he kept on scrubbing it with a towel anyway, probably just to have something to do.<p>

"What can I offer you today, Mon brave?" Nelson asked as Sam arrived. "You seem pensive tonight."

"Give me something strong and make it double!" He ordered and cast an eye to the table where Gene, Chris and Ray were sitting with a few officers from the CID, a couple were playing darts. "Actually, make that a big-double-double!"

Nelson put a glass full of scotch in front of him and resumed the silent polishing of the same glass, leaving Sam to drink in peace.

"Who am I Nelson?" He asked aloud.

"I don't understand? You are Sam Tyler." Nelson answered curtly, he was a barman, and therefore he was quite used to questions like this from inebriated customers.

"No, but Nelson, who am I really? You said Sam Tyler but what is in a name Nelson? "He persisted not really sure why Nelson would know anyway."The name is nothing but a means to distance ourselves from the others. I've been calling myself Koshei, the Master, Harold Saxon and now you lot are calling me Sam Tyler. But who out of all those people am I really?"

"I can't even pretend to understand what you are on about Sam. You lost me there, but I can tell you one thing. What we do and how we live is who we are. Our actions and our way of treating others around us define us for who we are. And who are you right now is DI Sam Tyler, a good man and a good police officer." Nelson replied, for once not looking too startled by the apparent madness of Sam's words.

"But what if that's not who I am? What if in the past I was this Master from the future, who killed and plotted…" He asked taking big gulps from his glass determined to get himself drunk this time.

"That's your past Mon brave, maybe now you are here to redeem yourself. Maybe you are being given second chance in a new place and a new time to start anew. Every person deserves a second chance. My granddad used to sell illegal alcohol in Jamaica so he could feed his family, that didn't make him bad man. Then he came here and started afresh, opened a bar and worked legally to the end." Nelson said this proudly. He put the glass on the bar. "Now why don't you go and play some darts with the Guv and the other guys, eh?"

"No, thanks Nelson, I'll decline the offer! I feel quite good where I am." Sam said staring into the distance with his glass in hand. "You don't think it's insane when I talk about being from the future and calling myself the Master?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"I'm here to listen to people talking about a lot of crazy stuff Sam, I'm used to tuning the cryptic stuff out." He smiled and turned around to tend to the other customers and clean the recently emptied glasses.

* * *

><p><strong>Please R&amp;R thanks. Is not so hard to press the purple button after you read it, is it? I'll appreciate your review even if it has to say that you didn't like this chapter or story as a whole.<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: How often do I have to actually write a disclaimers? I think this one will be the last for this fiction, if someone don't know by this chapter that I don't own anything, then what the hell have you been reading all this time? **

**A/N:**I'm sorry about the long wait, but I seems to have mucked it up a bit with this story and needed a bit of a help so a big **thanks **to **Shadow **for pointing out that the story line was too confusing and maybe people don't read, or review because get frustrated not knowing what is going on with Sam Tyler and the Master's personalities.

So, I think I should also point out that the story is NONE CANNON. If I had to stuck to cannon, I would not be able to write this. The time line for the Doctor and Torchwood is somewhere between the Last Of The Time Lords and before Partners In Crime, and for the A Divison and the Master/Sam is somewhere in the middle of series two of Life on Mars, and ignores the last two episodes.

**Cardiff, Wels 2008**

* * *

><p>The sun was just rising in Cardiff trying to push its way through the usual Welsh, cloudy and rainy early morning. It was the beginning of another usual day in Cardiff, with the normal flow of people running around, drowsily sipping on their coffees and hurrying towards work.<p>

Under the water tower of Roald Dahl Plaza, away from the eyesight of the citizens; among the buzz of the alien tech and cutting edge computers, another normal day was starting for the personal of Torchwood. Well as normal day, as Torchwood could have with the line of work they were in.

Apart from the hum of the machines, the place was quiet and could very well be completely deserted, if you didn't spot the figures of four people completely dead to the world around them. Toshiko, a young Japanese woman was scanning the data on the screen of her high tech computer and analysing the information, which looked as if only she could understand it.

On her left on another work station with screens around it, another young woman, the ex-police officer Gwen Cooper was running through the CCTV footage from the previous night. Further down the other levels of the Hub was the medical station which had an iron examination table in the centre and very bored Doctor Owen Harper, poking at something that looked very much dead.

All this was observed by the head of Torchwood Three, Cardiff, and Captain Jack Harkness. Jack was sitting on the desk in his office, trying to concentrate on doing some paperwork, but getting constantly distracted by the empty place where a hand in a jar used to be and not so long ago either. He sighed and moved his attention back to the paperwork. Moments later a man dressed in an immaculate three piece, dark grey suit, entered the through the glass door of Jack's office, a cup with streaming, black coffee was placed on the desk on Jack's right and the man left the office quietly, almost unnoticed.

Jack smiled to himself and took a sip from the strong coffee. Yes another normal day at Torchwood, until the right monitor at the centre of the Hub started to spark and sent abnormal readings on to Tosh's computer. Suddenly everyone sprang into frenzy of motion, which for outside observer might seem somewhat chaotic, but everyone did their job with absolute precision. Jack was out of his office the moment the first spark came out of the rift.

"Tosh, put the charts to monitor on high alert and scroll back to the last couple of hours. I want to see when the first anomaly started and why did we missed the glitch!" Jack was on full work mod now.

"Already on it Jack." Toshiko Sato answered moving around on her work station and busying herself with all the charts and readings, pressing various buttons on the keyboards to her computers with nearly the speed of the light. "Nothing abnormal on the readings, until the very moment the rift sparked."

"Gwen, check the recent CCTV!" Jack then ran up to the sliding wheel door and opened it to shout to the man inside the tourist shop's office. "Ianto, call the police, see if there are any reports of strange creatures, or persons lurking around the city!"

Jack went to Tosh next and looked over her shoulder at the screen in front of her.

"Nothing, I can detect Jack, I'm sorry." She shook her head. "There are a few changes up and down on the activity, but nothing too significant, or strong enough to cause this."

"Ok, keep monitoring and let me know if anything changes." Jack pushed himself from the back of her chair and made his way to where Gwen stood.

"Anything on the CCTV?"

Gwen looked up from the screen to him and sighed. "Nothing on the CCTV either. Just the normal people going on their way, the most interesting thing so far is the occasional mugger."

Owen finally left the medical area and joined the others in the central Hub.

"So, everyone has a task, but me." Dr Harper whined. "You think. I'm incapable of working with the rift, Jack?"

"'Course not!" Jack smiled thinly at him. "If I ever need the rift open, I'll be sure to ask the expert, Owen."

"I saved you and Toshiko from being stranded in 1942, in case you forgot."

"Yeah…" Jack answered. Of course he couldn't forget, but annoying Owen Harper was too much of a fun to miss. "Only you seemed so engrossed in sticking your tools into this time vortex worm and I didn't want to ruin your fun."

Jack's smile grew. It was hard enough sometimes to work with relatively amicable Owen Harper, an annoyed Owen was next to impossible to handle.

"Found anything you like there?"

"No!" grunted Owen, as he flung himself on the sofa.

* * *

><p>The streets of Cardiff were cold and wet and not the most pleasant place to walk through if you don't have to, you should at least be dressed warm and water proof. The autumn was on its peak and the weather, although not yet biting cold was far away from comfortable. Yet strangely enough, through one of the many streets, there was a woman walking, dressed only in light red dress, with bare shoulders and no back; her feet were without shoes, but this weather did not seem to affect her.<p>

She was walking almost in trance, seemingly just floating through the streets, towards the place where the Millennium Centre was. Her look was near vacant and she was swaying slightly as if the wind would pick her thin body up at any moment and blow her away with the fallen leaves from the trees. Her blond hair was flying around her face and shoulders, the hair might once have been neatly and stylishly clipped on a loose bun, or around the temples, but now it was in complete disarray. But much stranger than all was the fact, that despite this woman's strange appearance, no one paid her any mind.

Lucy was determinate to reach the Roald Dahl Plaza and do her part of the work. She knew what exactly was expected from her. She gripped the ring in her hand tightly, her frozen fingers ached, but she knew that soon everything will be alright. Soon, when her Harry was back, the cold will go away. Soon, she will be warm in her husband's arms once again. She wished the rain would stop, it was ruining her hair and her dress; and she was in the red one, because her Harry always loved her in this colour.

She knew, others were mean to resurect him, but she knew that if others do it they will bring back the Master, not her Harry. She needed Harry, her loving husband, the one who found in her someone that no one else did. She didn't want the Master, he wasn't her Harry, he was mad and uncaring, and most importantly he forgot about her the moment he had his Doctor to play if she was careful, if she did it right, then she would have him back only for herself. He had explained to her about the rift and the Time Vortex, and they hoped that when she throw the ring into the rift, it will grand him his life back. If the Vortex could grand life to the Torchwood Captain, then it could do the same to her husband.

She had to hurry up, or she might miss the moment when the rift is weak, but she couldn't move any faster. Her legs were cold and felt heavy; everything seemed to move in slow motion, only she was flying through the streets, between the buildings and around the trees. The rain was beating down on her, biting on her bare skin and made her shiver, but she just kept going, she knew what she had to do. It was strange how the rain muffled not only the sounds were, but also the colours. The trees with their missing leaves seemed even duller on this October morning, than they ever had before. Only the occasional red (the red always seems to be such a strong and bright colour) stood apart from the rest, brighter than ever, almost as if grey and red were the only colours left in existence.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back in the Hub, everyone was still trying to find the reason for the sudden rift activity but without much success.<p>

The entrance door rolled open and Ianto joined the rest of the Torchwood in the main area, holding a tray with cups of coffee, to the great relief of everyone present. Sometimes the only thing that held the Torchwood team intact and sane was Ianto's famous coffee.

Gwen rubbed her eyes, which stung after staring at the screen watching endless scrolls of CCTV footage. She sighed contently and took a sip from her cup, turning to the tea boy.

"Ianto, you are my saviour, always knowing what I need." Gwen smiled at him and received one smile and a curt nod.

"Nice coffee for sore head and good sight for sore eyes, that's my Ianto Jones!" Jack Harkness winked at him, reaching for the cup of coffee.

Ianto didn't seem to be affected by any of the comments and not missing a beat, he turned to offer Toshiko her coffee, tossing over his shoulder at the Captain.

"This is sexual harassment, sir."

Looking back at her screen Gwen hastily put her mug down and zoomed in on the image.

"Jack!" She shouted. "Come and see this!"

Not only Jack, but almost the entire team apart from Tosh joined Gwen on her station. To Jack's utter disbelief, there on the screen was the image of a woman dressed in red, kneeling on the ground almost on top of the Hub.

"I don't believe this!" Jack exclaimed shaking his head. "How can she be here? She was in a mental hospital."

"Who is she, Jack?" Gwen asked surprised by her boss' reaction to this strange woman.

"Lucy Saxon, the late Prime Minister's wife." Ianto answered the question.

"Wasn't she the one who killed him?" Tosh asked, not leaving her work place even for a moment.

"Yes, and that's why, she can't be here. She is locked up." Jack sounded bit scared, but mostly angry, because Captain Jack Harkness did not do well with strange.

"Jack!" Tosh shouted from her place." The rift is powering up. The readings are going off the scale."

Jack left Gwen and ran to Tosh's place to look at the rift activity readings; they were changing constantly and the rift was opening again. Moving around trying to find the cause, he missed the woman placing a ring into a crack of the pavement, which coincided with the exact time the rift opened.

The ground started to shake and the light in the rift started to move up and down. There were red lights flashing and the Hub was filled with the blaring of alarms.

"Ianto, go and try to turn off this noise!" Jack shouted, trying to make himself heard over the alarms. "Tosh, stay here and keep trying to find the cogs to close the rift back! Gwen, Owen, with me and get your guns ready!"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Once again thank you to my beta readed Elfinium, who kept on encouraging me to write this chapter, and edited it in a mere hours. You are a trsure.

* * *

><p><strong>London, Parallel Earth 2007<strong>

Torchwood Institute had received a signal for one other rift activity in the last three days. This time, however the reason was almost impossible to explain. They had run every test and scan they could, but the only source of energy remotely similar to the one that could explain the opening of the time-space rift was a man lying in a bed in a hospital in Manchester.

There was nothing remarkable about the man apart of him being in a prolonged coma but able to react to stimuli or make small muscle moves from time to time. He was registered there as Sam Tyler, the local DCI, who was involved in a car accident a year ago. Since then Sam had just never woken up. He was constantly being visited by his mother or his girlfriend, who would talk to him all the time in the hope that he would hear them and respond somehow. On rare occasions he would twitch or move a finger, once he even smiled, but never opened his eyes.

Torchwood decided that however unusual or unimportant this seemed in connection to the rift they would have to monitor the man constantly. After the last big opening the Torchwood Institute in London decided to send two of their field agents to Manchester to take a closer look at this police chief.

The woman was making her way towards the hospital reception with an air of professional confidence, the arrogance of someone with a powerful position and the clearance to almost everywhere. The woman was young, but she had a stern and tough demeanor. Her features were set in cold professionalism, a polite smile appearing on her lips only when she reached the receptionists' desk. Her blonde hair pulled back in flawless neat bun, complimented her immaculate suit. She pulled her credentials from the inner pocket of her suit jacket and showed it to the receptionist.

"Torchwood Agents Tyler and Smith." The woman said curtly. "We are here to see a patient of yours in Hyde Ward. His name is DCI Sam Tyler."

The receptionist scrolled through the computer screen and then nodded to the woman.

"Agent Tyler?" She asked. "Am I right to think that you are a relation of DCI Tylers?"

"No, we are not related." Agent Tyler answered coldly.

"Then I'm sorry ma'am, but I can't let you see him. He is in I.C.U. Only relatives and close friends are allowed there." The receptionist answered politely.

"Look lady…" Agent Tyler said calmly suppressing her anger. "We are here to do our job, and we will do it with or without your help. If you assist us we could spare each other a lot of time and headaches." She finished firmly, putting her hands on the reception's desk.

'Bloody Torchwood', the receptionist thought. Always thinking that they are on top of everything.

"Ma'am, sir, you don't understand. I can't let you go in there!" The receptionist stood her ground. "You don't have authorisation to disturb our patients."

"You will find out that Torchwood had authorisation to do anything that is required, if we see fit, in the name of protecting our Earth." Agent Tyler said and then strode along the corridor, not waiting to be given permission or directions.

"Mickey, are you going to stay there and gape at that girl or are you coming with me?" Tyler snapped at her dark skinned partner.

He had to jog to catch up with her fast stride. She had become so different he mused, sometimes it irritated him how cold and calculatingly professional she had become. He could not believe that once this woman was a lively teenage girl with the bright smile. It had been only a couple of years ago, but it seemed like an age to him now, or more like some wistful dream.

"Rose babe, we should have waited for her to tell us where he is." Mickey spoke when he caught up with her. "We don't even know where this Hyde ward is."

"That is Tyler to you, when we are working in public." She told him firmly, and then nodded. "We will find the ward on the maps and then find his room from the nurses."

Mickey cringed at the tone of her voice, telling him off for calling her Rose during work time.

"Sorry ma'am!" Mickey saluted. "You have changed so much." He said sadly as an afterthought.

"The world has changed Agent Smith." She turned sharply towards him. "Everything has changed, Mickey." She then added softly.

In the end they didn't need to ask the nurses for Sam Tyler's room, because the moment they reached the Hyde ward their scanner started to beep in high alert.

"I think we found him." Mickey murmured. "And it looks like it's just in time for some really strong signal emission."

They entered the room to see an unconscious man, around his mid to late thirties, lying on a bed surrounded by monitors. He seemed almost serene. Despite this the scanner was rapidly going off the scale.

"I don't understand." Mickey frowned. "I can't see anything unusual with this guy but come and look at the readings."

* * *

><p><strong>Cardiff, Earth 2008<strong>

Captain Jack Harkness checked his gun and with a determined stride, approached the lift. It was good that it had a perception filter, covering the particular square in the ground outside and making them practically invisible to the world around. It came in handy in situations like this when they needed the cover.

He was shortly followed by scared looking but determined Gwen Cooper and Dr Owen Harper, armed to the teeth. Jack lifted and eyebrow at Owen and smirked.

"I said take your guns, not prepare for all out war." He could never resist a comment. "What do you think one woman can do to you Owen?"

Gwen snorted in amusement, which much to his colleagues delight, made Owen even more irritated. He was going to answer with a jab of his own, but right at that moment the whole base shook and Gwen swayed dangerously, only Jack's arms around her waist preventing her from falling off the pavement square that was the Torchwood lift.

Myfanwy- Torchwood's pet pterodactyl swept around the place, frightened she swooped down, knocking Ianto off his feet.

"Ianto!" Gwen shouted form above.

Ianto dropped the phone in mid conversation with the local police station, with a small yelp of pain. He clutched his torn shoulder and tumbled down the few steps from Jack's office to the main Hub area.

Gwen was ready to jump, not even thinking about the drop. Jack's grip on her tightened even further.

"Get us back Jack!" She shouted at him.

Jack shook his head and refused to comply.

"We have more important work to, they can handle it." Jack told her firmly.

"For God's sake Jack." Gwen shouted starting to wriggle. "That's Tosh and Ianto down there with scared pterodactyl and the place falling apart. How is one crazy woman more important?"

Jack just looked at her not answering; he didn't loosen his grip either.

"I hate to say this, but Jack is right." Owen told her. "If that woman out there was connected to this Master guy and is able to cause this much trouble, then she is more important than them. Maybe it's time for the eye candy to show us that he could be useful to someone else other than our Captain." Owen smirked.

Seeing the cold glare Jack sent his way however, he stopped talking and pretended to check one of his guns again.

Lucy Saxon looked on in delight at the energy coming from the ground; it ripped through the air and was tearing the world apart. The wind swept her hair around her face; she could feel tingles of energy through her skin. She had completely forgotten about the cold now, her body felt warmed from inside. She laughed, spreading her arms. Her Harry was coming back to her. She could see his beautiful brown eyes and manic smile in her mind. She was imagining how she was going to welcome him with an embrace and a kiss. Her beautiful Harry.

Lucy watched the colours that swirled through the ring in the crack. They were constantly changing, bright and beautiful. There was a strong surge of power as the ground shook again violently. Debris was falling now all around her from the buildings, but she did not notice them. All she could see and feel was the power that was spreading through her, she was more than warm now, she was burning alive from the inside, it felt as if she was being torn apart and then pieced back together.

The Torchwood trio filed out of the lift, but all they could do was stay rooted to the spot and watch the woman helplessly as she shook and screamed. Their trusty powerful guns were now useless, as was all their combat training.

Jack motioned to his team mates to stay behind and moved to grab Lucy and drag her away from the energy rift. She wriggled in his arms, screaming and kicking.

Down in the Hub, Ianto was throwing pieces of pizza covered in BBQ sauce to keep Myfanwy occupied and away from them. He was trying to stop the bleeding from his shoulder at the same time.

The place was a scene of pandemonium. Everything was shaking, debris was falling and stray paper sheets were flying around amidst the noise of a frightened dinosaur and the blaring of emergency alarms.

Toshiko Sato was keeping her post beside her work station, trying to crack the codes despite everything around her.

She shouted "Yes!" in excitement and typed one finale time on her computer. Suddenly the rift stopped the energy died down and all went still and quiet. After the chaos and the blazing noise the new deadly stillness seemed eerie and unreal. The last stray papers fell lightly to the floor and the only sound was the now calm flap of the pterodactyl's wings.

Ianto took a sharp intake of breath, finally breaking the silence and bringing the world around back to normal.

"We did it!" Tosh shouted exited and jumped from her seat. "We did it!"

"Yes." Ianto smiled. "We did it. Now if you don't mind I should go and clean my shoulder and my suit. There will be a lot of tidying up for me later." He said curtly and went to the medical bay.

The Torchwood trio and Lucy watched in disbelief as the light and energy abruptly ceased and the ground under their feet stilled. In the now quiet, the whine of sirens could be heard. Emergency services were already going around the city of Cardiff to assist the injured.

Gwen gave a triumphant cry and throwing her arms around Owen, kissed him before she could think.

When Lucy and Jack returned to the epicentre of power, the ring had vanished without a trace. There was no evidence that it had ever existed.

"NO!" Lucy shouted and tried to throw herself forward.

"You Mrs Saxon are going to be my guest for a long while." Jack said coldly, not even a trace of smugness at having a beautiful blonde in his arms. "I have a lot of questions that need to be answered by you."

* * *

><p><strong>Manchester, 1973.<strong>

The Master was woken by the buzz from his TV. He did not even remember when he got back to his bed-sit after the night at Railway Arms. He must have succeeded in getting himself completely pissed then. He rubbed his tired eyes, hoping in vain to rub the headache away too. He couldn't remember why exactly the TV had woken him; it wasn't even particularly loud, just one of these Open University lectures again. He must have left it on before falling asleep.

The Master felt the ring on his finger warmer than normally and wondered if this was the reason for him waking up.

Casting a bored look at the TV, he made to switch it off, but the lecturer on the screen made him stop and stare. The lecturer was a man, a little over middle age with silvery slightly curly hair and a dark red velvet jacket. His over all dandy look stirred immediate recognition in the Master.

"Doctor…" The Master whispered barely audible, kneeling beside the TV screen. "I knew it all the time. I'm not Sam Tyler am I? I'm the Master!"

The Doctor came closer in the camera's focus and snapped his fingers.

"Can you hear me?" He asked.

"Yes, yes!" The Master shouted. "I can hear you, talk to me! Please!"

"I know you can hear me Sam!" The Doctor said seriously.

The Master could feel anxious panic starting to overwhelm him.

"No, no, no, I'm not Sam you idiot. I'm the Master" He shouted and hit the top of the TV with his fist.

"We are working on finding out what happened to you old friend, you just keep fighting." The Doctor said and then turned around, walking back to the black board filled with all manner of formulas.

"As we all know there are 3 dimensions, but apart from those known, there are infinitely more hidden dimensions." The Doctor continued his lecture. "All these dimensions could be seen as parallel worlds. Imagine hundreds, thousands of balls with black cloths between them. Now imagine that there is a tear in a cloth between the balls. Anything could pass through the tear from one ball to the other." The Doctor finished and the TV screen went to static.

The Master started to twist the TV's switches desperately.

"No, no, come back!" He demanded. "Talk to me! You can't leave me here."

He shouted with frustration and suddenly found himself sitting bolt upright in his bed, wide awake and not even remotely near the TV.

He looked around in confusion, finally registering the loud ring of his phone. Lifting the receiver to answer, he heard the grumpy voice of Gene Hunt shouting from the other end.

"'Bout time Tyler!" Gene shouted. "We have the body of that Billy boy down in our mortuary. I expect you in the CID in half an hour." Gene finished and hung up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own…nothing. :(**

**A/N: **I want to say thank you to **helenwhogirl **for the review in the last chapter. Since the PM of this user is disabled I couldn't thank them personally. Also the due huge thank you to my beta **Elfinium** and again another thank you to **Brownbug** for all her additional help with characters and conceits. Without you two girls I would have abandoned this story.

A/N2: I'm currently rewriting the first few chapters to put more depth into the Master's character, so if someone feels like rereading the first few chapters can do it soon.

* * *

><p>The Master entered CID and was greeted by the customary 70's police station disarray and cigarette smoke. Most of the desks were covered with piles of paper work and old case files. He wouldn't have been surprised if some of the files didn't date back two years. It seemed as though they were just piling up and no one was working on them.<p>

He sighed tiredly, feeling another headache starting to throb behind his temples. Rubbing his eyes he went to his desk. It was the only one that was clear of papers and held only the most relevant case files. He searched through the files to find the two from the last couple of days. He wondered if sleep deprivation had something to do with the doubts about his identity. There were moments, like now, when he really wasn't sure if he was the Master or Sam Tyler. Times like this one, when he tolerated someone like Gene Hunt bossing and ordering him around. Another moment when he did not snap Ray Carling's neck the very second he walked in the room. Then, he wasn't sure who he was, because the Master would never tolerate that. Perhaps he really was mad, even more so than he originally thought.

On his way to the mortuary he passed Phyllis' desk. Unconsciously he greeted her with a "Good morning". In ordinary moments like this, he could almost believe that his name was Sam Tyler despite all that he thought he knew about himself.

"Well enjoy your morning while it's still good Boss, because the Guv is really pissed off at you." Phyllis replied.

"Yeah, you have a great day too Phyllis." He murmured.

* * *

><p>The Master thought he was used to the general air of the mortuary after the last two bodies, but he still felt claustrophobic with the dark and small area. This time he wasn't the first in the room, which spared him the quiet time to think over the situation. However, when he finally saw the angry face of Gene Hunt, he was ready to change his opinion and wish for the peace in which he could just stare at the wall and mope. The Guv was flanked by Skelton and Carling.<p>

"Tyler, you bloody idiot, it was 'bout time you showed your backside here." Gene grabbed him by his jacket and pushed him towards the gurney holding the body.

He pried Hunt's hand off and started his examination of the body not even bothering to answer Gene. He still had a lot of questions to answer about himself to afford letting his anger towards this human trip him on his way. He surveyed the body, slipping in full work mode. Breathing deeply he adopted the mannerism of this Sam person that he felt so strangely familiar and easy to be.

"There are no wounds, no visible bruises or marks to indicate the cause of death." Sam talked quietly to himself, puzzled.

"No joke, genius. Of course there aren't any." Gene said grumpily, barely restraining himself from hitting his DI on the back of his head. "He died the same way the others did. Heroin!"

Sam looked sharply up at Gene hoping that surely even his stubborn, never listening to reason DCI would see the obvious, that they were dealing with something more than just some junkies. This was looking more and more like organised murder to remove people who had known too much about a dodgy deal. Whatever it was, it had the technology to traffic drugs that were not largely going to be used for about another 10 years. He couldn't allow this chance of getting home slip from him. Someone who knew time travel, or at least was from a more advanced planet, was around. Still, he needed to tread carefully around Gene.

"I'm telling you again Guv, the main reason is not Heroin. They are being murdered."

"Ok ladies lets get out of here I need a word with DI Tyler in my office."

Gene ushered them out of the morgue and to the main part of the police station.

Gene's office was dimly lit and held the smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke. His desk was clear of files and paper work, which was an indication that this particular DCI didn't care about old information written two years ago. What this man liked in his job was going out there and personally taking the collars into custody, after giving them a good slap or two. The DCI's office could be shut off from the rest of the CID by closing the blinds on the windows, but since the walls did not reach the ceiling to block the sound he did not bother to block the view either.

Gene opened the door and hauled Sam headlong into the draws on the opposite side of the room. Getting his pleasure in putting his knee into Sam's kidneys he pressed him further into the wooden surface and growled.

"When are you going to listen to me when I tell you that I know what I'm doing Tyler?" Gene asked angrily. "I had a reason to hold him here."

Sam was unable to answer for long time. His breath was knocked out of his lungs and the pain in his back almost choked him to tears. There were more reasons than the physical pain however. The sudden realisation that the boy would have been alive if he was still in custody shook his body with shock and anger. Who was the anger was directed at? He did not know.

"You kept him here not because you thought he was guilty?" Sam finally managed to choke out.

Turning him around Gene pressed him back into the draw and almost spat in his face.

"'Course I bloody knew he didn't kill Thomas Morris. The sod was too stupid to pull so clever a murder." Gene shook him. "I kept him here because this is the safest place to be when someone is killing members of your gang."

Sam looked absolutely stunned and completely lost for words. He was so sure that he had done the right thing calling the boy's family and telling them to get a lawyer. He suddenly felt so tired; he didn't even have the strength to fight Gene's bullying. Sam sagged into the grip and looked blankly into the distance. He tried to focus on Gene's words, but his attention was grabbed by Ray Carling who he could hear talking through the open office door.

"…and then they came and started to burn cities and slice people and animals. The most terrifying thing was that they had such childish voices. " Ray was saying. Sam blinked in confusion, his blood running cold in his veins. A hand shook him and the world started to clear into focus again bringing Ray's words out of the fog. "It all was his fault. He released the bastard probably just to spite the Guv."

Sam shook his head and blinked. "What?"

"I said that all was going well, 'til you had to stick yer nose in and go educate his parents." Gene said furious. "I knew something dodgy was going on with that lawyer of his."

"We have no proof that this has something to do with his lawyer." Sam tried to deny it. "However I agree that it has connection to the case. I would suggest observation and investigation."

"Oh, no Dorothy, you are not getting me into one of those ice cream vans again." Gene released him and exited the office. He was closely followed by Sam who was talking animatedly and trying to persuade Gene Hunt of the benefits of strategic observation of the gang and their hideout.

* * *

><p>A few hours later and Sam had managed to persuade Gene Hunt that they need to observe the gang. The four of them were dotted about in the green zone around a block, and a few in coffee and grocery shops, surveying the area and waiting for something to happen. They had left Annie in CID to try and avert Litton's attempts to get the case under the RSD jurisdiction. So far nothing too interesting had happened, apart from Ray almost burning his moustache when someone from the CID played a practical joke by increasing the flame of his lighter. Gene was becoming restless and starting to mutter insults towards everyone that was coming into his view. He was beginning to regret listening to his clearly insane DI, who was becoming more and more deranged with the passing of time. Lately even more so. Gene was wondering what was the matter with him. Sam had never been all that attached to reality, but the last few days had scared even Gene Hunt into thinking that he maybe should finally call the shrinks.<p>

A parking car took him out of his reverie and to the situation at hand. Two young men exited the car hastily and, not even bothering to lock the vehicle, they rushed inside one of the buildings out of view. Gene motioned for Chris to check the car while he and Ray started to follow the boys inside, but had to stop and enter a shop when another man dressed all in black came into view.

Sam's attention was in a totally different place. He could swear that he heard the Scissors Sisters playing from a coffee shop window. He approached the window and put his ear to the glass.

"That's Scissors Sisters…" He murmured to himself.

"It looks more like brothers in arms to me." Gene said grumpily. "Oi, Tyler pay attention! It was your idea to observe and investigate."

Sam pulled himself reluctantly away from the shop window with a sigh. It couldn't have been that song anyway; it was just probably his mind playing games with him again. He was unable however to concentrate on the task, even knowing that Gene was right and it was his idea to begin with. When the man in black came towards them his head started to pound again with the sharp pain and sound of the drums. 'No, no, no….I'm Sam Tyler, my name is Sam Tyler…' He chanted to himself silently like a mantra trying to hold into that thought. "I'm not listening!" He shouted, falling to his knees and holding his head.

There was a soft touch to his shoulder that could not have been the grubby hand of Gene Hunt and a pressure light enough to get him to concentrate and look at the person to whom the hand belonged.

He looked up into the soft gentle features of a young, light brown haired woman, who gazed with concern at him.

"Are you ok, sir?" she asked.

"Jo, leave the poor man alone, we have missed the Master."

He heard a familiar man's voice say before the world swam before his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything no matter how many times I do this.**

**A/N:** A huge thank you to **Brownbug** for all her help and being my beta reader for this chapter. Also for listening to my moaning about being unable to write. I want to apologise to my usual beta **Elfinium** for not waiting for her, but I haven't been posting anything lately and I just wanted to write and post. I promise I'll stick to you as beta for later. Also thank you to the people who put the story on alert. I only wish you would have reviewed as well and let me know what you think, and why are you puting it to alert.

* * *

><p><strong>Torchwood, Manchester, Parallel Earth, 2007<strong>

Rose Tyler left the examination of Sam's medical chart to calmly make her way towards Mickey and his PDA. Whatever these readings were, they were - if not serious or dangerous – then at least curious enough to take his interest and confuse him. She looked over his shoulder at the readings and gasped, looking at Mickey and waiting for an explanation.

Mickey took his time studying the data before shaking his head at her and pocketing the PDA. All this secrecy was getting on Rose's nerves. She took a deep breath to calm herself and, trying not to take her frustration out on Mickey, she nodded and made her way towards the door.

"We're going to get this to the HQ and analyse the readings. I'm sorry, Tyler, but I can't make head or tail of it here. I'm a technician not a bio-scientist," Mickey told Rose, mindful of using her first name after her outburst earlier for calling her Rose.

All the time during the drive to HQ, the two Torchwood agents were silent, lost in their thoughts and speculation of what the readings from the hospital could mean and what their connection was to the Rift. Rose was trying not to get her hopes too high, because she had already been burnt once before by getting too hopeful about the possibility of breaching the void and reaching the Doctor, just to be brought back down with more pain. Now she couldn't help speculating on the possibility that what she had seen on the PDA was evidence of a bridge between the two worlds, but she tried to keep her interest in it professional rather than personal. She was wondering what Mickey was thinking about, but did not give in to her curiosity, keeping a cold distance from her friend. She didn't want to get too attached to him again, in case she found a way to get back to the Doctor. Now she could understand the Time Lord's reluctance to get attached to people he knew he would end up leaving behind. Too many goodbyes. She sighed when the car pulled into the parking lot in front of the tower that housed Torchwood's Manchester's branch.

Entering her office, Rose sat in front of her computer and started to analyse the Rift activity they had detected near the hospital. She wished she could understand the readings that the DCI in Manchester gave to the PDA. She didn't know the techs here as well as she knew her colleagues in London, but she hoped they would be quick to inform her when they found something. Her thoughts were cut off when she heard an urgent knock on the door. After a muttered "Enter," from Rose, a smartly dressed young technician came into the room, but didn't enter further or close the door.

"Agent Tyler you need to come and see the readings," the technician said urgently and exited without waiting for an answer, assuming that Rose would follow. She did, since she was no less eager to find out the results.

Entering the tech's room after him, Rose immediately made her way towards the work desk and looked at the computer. She frowned at the numbers and swirling lines on the screen, not able to understand a thing.

"What is it?" she snapped, annoyed that she had not had more time to study high technology and bio-data before starting to work for Torchwood.

"It's DCI Tyler's DNA matrix, but something is happening to it," the technician explained and pointed at the screen. "Do you see here? Look at the way it's splitting. Human DNA is a double helix, this one is trying to split into triple. It's still unsuccessful but it's connecting with some sort of energy. The DNA line is breaking and forming a succession of double helix, triple helix, double helix, double helix and so on."

Rose looked blankly at the screen for a moment and then shook her head.

"I don't know anything about genetics, so I have no idea what's going on, but what's the energy you mentioned?" she asked, still confused and not satisfied with the answers.

"It's Rift energy," the technician answered her.

* * *

><p>As the Master opened his eyes, he realised he was standing in a clean and empty white room which reminded him of a clinical ward. He looked around with no small amount of surprise. He was back in his tailored black suit and waistcoat, finished with neat black shoes and leather gloves. He laughed - however mad and confusing this situation was, he was finally clear on who he was. The drums seemed to be vibrating through the white, featureless walls, a familiar sound mixed with something unfamiliar, resembling the beeping of a life support machine.<p>

"Anyone..?" the Master shouted, turning around as he heard his own voice echo through the empty room, mixing with the other two sounds.

It was a strange but comforting place, a place in which it seemed that he finally had his head all to himself. Even the familiar sound of the drums sounded comforting within these walls. Interestingly, it almost seemed as if they were no longer inside his head, but instead coming from all around him. He just needed to find a way out of this sterile room, which shouldn't be that hard, he thought. If there was a way in, it was only logical that it would have a way out. The more he thought about it the more he wondered if the place was actually inside his mind. He could feel a headache starting, but it was not like any other normal headache - it was vibrating throughout his entire body. So they had attempted a resurrection and it had gone wrong. He had left clear instructions for his Cult of Saxon to follow, but he guessed it was Lucy who had managed to mess it all up. His disciples would have brought the Master back, but the empty-headed blonde girl just wanted her Harry back. He cautiously approached one of the walls and touched the smooth surface with his hand. It was vibrating and cold, but at his touch a section of it melted away to reveal another white room, complete with another occupant, who was standing in front of him staring in shock. The man would have been an absolute copy of the Master, if not for the clothes. He could recognise the jeans and the leather jacket that he was wearing just a minute ago.

"How…?" The man in the leather jacket looked around confused.

"Hello, Sam!" the Master greeted him, his face as impassive as a marble statue.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, still dazed. But the Master thought that he should give that man due credit. Sam deserved it for the way he kept calm and analytical, looking around in the vain hope of finding some clues.

"I'm the Master!" he told Sam with wicked grin.

"Are you another creation inside my head then? Because let me tell you, pal, I'm getting tired."

It was true - he already had a whole police station and city inside his head. The possibility that he was also imagining a spooky room with a crazy guy inside was too much.

"Actually, you're inside my head," the Master said, leaning against one of the white walls. "Make that our head."

"Enough riddles, tell me what's going on!" Sam snapped at the Master, who didn't even blink. He thought it would be easy, but now the hard part was coming. How to explain to a stupid ape what was happening, when he was only just starting to understand it himself.

"You are lying in a hospital bed and I'm inside a ring that was supposed to resurrect me, but a stupid monkey had to mess it up again," the Master replied, while trying to actually sort it out in his head. He didn't really care if one of the mentioned monkeys understood what he was saying.

He could see the blank look on Sam's face and wondered if he ever looked like this. It was strange to look at a completely human mirror version of himself. He pushed away from the wall and started to circle the other man, looking him over. He had seen the different incarnations of the Doctor meeting, and it felt strange, but this was even more so. This wasn't just a different version of him, this wasn't even him and yet…and yet it was.

"So, am I dead then?" Sam asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Not necessarily, no," he said thoughtfully. "But you are dying in a hospital."

Sam took a step back and once again looked at the Master quizzically, earning him a sardonic smirk from the Time Lord. How could this monkey even think that he would understand anything the Master told him?

"I've had enough cryptic messages from everyone I imagine in my head," Sam protested. "Am I dead, am I dying…? I thought at least my alter ego would have been more cooperative."

The Master laughed, letting out all the boiled up insanity and frustration from the last few days. Alter ego? As if he would even imagine having an alter ego who was human!

"I'm not your alter ego, you little human," the Master spat. "I have a life of my own, and oh what a life it was, until one of your stinking human kind messed it up. No, you are not dead, and yes I'm technically dead, but only in body. Something happened when a Rift opened and now we are stuck together."

He didn't know how to explain it better, and he didn't think he would be bothered doing it even if he could. Let the stupid human work it out for himself, isn't that why they were starting to develop brains? He just wanted for the guy to be gone, so he would be left alone with his thoughts and plans. Sam, however, seemed to have different ideas and persisted on pressing for an explanation, his deductive mind not letting him drop the matter without further interrogation.

"What, like Jekyll and Hyde?" Sam asked, worried.

"No, if it was Jekyll and Hyde, we would be two separate people in one body. We share body and mind in a more complex realm," the Master started to explain, hoping that the DCI would shut up after he got his answer. The drums might not have been inside his head at the moment, but they were starting to get louder and louder, causing him a headache nevertheless. "It's something that my race calls a Biological Metacrisis, something that you won't understand because you humans have such limited brains. Think of it like this. You are half Sam, and half Master. And I'm half Master, and half Sam."

"Okay…" Sam said slowly, as if to let the Master know that he understood, while inwardly preparing to call the white coats. "Can I please wake up now?"

The Master laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head and looking at Sam with something that would have been pity, if he was able to feel pity. But then, as if in response to Sam's request, the lights started to gradually become brighter and the noises louder, a cacophony of sound that was not only mixture of life support machine beeping and four beat drums, but also voices. Voices that were calling him and Sam to their own realities, pulling them apart and melting the walls around the room until only the light was visible in front of the Master's eyes.

"NO!" he shouted at the light. He didn't want to go back there, not when he had finally found a place where he knew everything and recognised who he was.

However, as the voices become a bit more clear, he realised that they weren't waking up. The voices were urgent and raised, the voices of medics urging someone to hold on. With a start, he realised that Sam Tyler was dying and the human doctors were fighting for his survival. Now he understood how it was possible to meet in his head. They were both unconscious. He started to get worried, afraid that if Sam died he would cease to exist as well. The last thing he heard before the noises were swallowed by the light was the panic of the medic who was shouting.

"We're losing him!"

* * *

><p><strong>Torchwood, Cardiff, Earth 2008<strong>

Lucy was cowering on the floor in the corner of the cell, doing her best not to take notice of any of the occupants of the other cells. People thought that her Harry's Toclafane were scary, but they were just metal balls with cute childish voices. These here were brutes. She rocked back and forth, humming some nursery rhymes that her nanny used to sing to her when she had trouble sleeping as a child. But no matter what she did, she could still hear the snarls of the Weevils and the other creatures around her. Just when she thought that she might run out of nursery rhymes and go mad, the door to her cell was mercifully opened and the young Welshman in the nice suit led her outside into a white interrogation room.

The room contained only two chairs and a table in the middle, apart from a CCTV camera in one of the corners. Lucy thought that they might be leaving her there alone to see if the silence would be any more effective at making her crack than listening to the creature's howling. Unconsciously she started tapping on the table, a four beat rhythm that she had heard her husband tap so many times.

A while later the door opened and the same young man dressed in an immaculate three piece suit entered the room, bringing her a steaming cup of coffee.

"I'm surprised," Lucy said to Ianto, smirking. "The Captain doesn't strike me as a cavalier or as someone who cares for the comfort of his prisoners."

Ianto just smiled at her, calmly and politely.

"It wouldn't do to be blamed for mistreating the widow of the late Prime Minister," he told her.

"Of course. I should have known that the tea boy would look after his position," Lucy commented. "Maybe when my husband comes back, I might recommend you to him and spare your life." She smiled at him. The man still looked unaffected by her comments and threats. She wondered if Ianto possessed feelings at all. She would have thought he would have shown at least surprise or annoyance at her bold attitude, since she was nothing more than Torchwood's prisoner. But his face remained polite and empty of emotion.

"Very kind offer, but I'm afraid I have to decline, madam. Now, if you'll excuse me," he told her and opened the door. "The Captain should be with you shortly."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **I want to thank my two great beta readers **Elfinium and Brownbug** for all their work and help. You are making this story go girls.

* * *

><p><strong>Torchwood 3, Cardiff, Earth 2007<strong>

* * *

><p>Lucy watched Ianto leaving the room and hastily made a decision to try and sweet-talk him into helping her. She couldn't just let him go without trying to speak to him.<p>

"Wait, can't you stay a moment?" she asked him, using her best damsel in distress act, looking as vulnerable as she could. Her voice shook at the right moments and she even managed to shiver and sniff. "I've been locked in here alone, in the cold, with these creatures from nightmares, and now left in an empty white room. Please, I just need a bit of human company."

Ianto looked at her and hesitated for a moment. She wasn't sure if her pleading words or her helpless act had any effect on the young man, she couldn't read anything on his closed-up face. But then he turned his back again and said: "As I said, the Captain will be with you shortly, madam. You will have your company." Ianto nodded curtly and almost managed to close the door before he heard Lucy's voice again, this time more bold and arrogant.

"Do you think you will ever be something else than the tea boy around here?" Lucy asked, raising her voice, hoping that Ianto would hear her before he closed the door and that this would make him come back. "They will never appreciate what you do. I'm sure they all think that Captain Harkness hired you for your good looks."

It had the desired effect, as Ianto opened the door and returned to the room, looking for a moment distraught and nervous. But soon his closed off expression was back and he stood near the door in a cold professional way.

"What do you want, Mrs Saxon?" he asked coldly.

"I want you to help me get out of here and get my husband back. Then I can help you," Lucy told him, smiling at him with the most charming smile she could muster. Everyone thought her the dumb blonde that couldn't hold a single thought in her head without getting a headache. Well, let them think that, it did have its benefits. No one paid her much attention when they talked; even her Harry sometimes talked about his plans in front of her, thinking that she was harmless, not understanding anything. However, she was really good at listening and observing while playing the dumb bimbo. So she thought was Ianto. What was the saying about still waters running deep?

Ianto just chuckled in response, however, obviously thinking she was joking.

"You want me to betray my team and help you, just because you asked?" he said in disbelief.

"No, but I can talk to my husband when he is back. He can put you in charge of Torchwood," she offered. "Don't tell me you don't ever feel unappreciated here. They take you for granted, don't they? The tea boy that cleans everything up after them, or the archivist that always puts the papers in order, no matter how much they mess it up – and they never care how much time it takes you to do it all!"

Not receiving any response from the stony-faced, unmoving figure of the young Welshman, Lucy continued, refusing to be discouraged.

"Do you think they ever ask themselves how the Hub is so clean in the morning after leaving it as messed up, as a front line?" she kept pressing on, hoping for a reaction.

However, before he could respond to her words, the door opened and Jack Harkness entered the room and interrupted their conversation. He looked at Ianto intently, as if hoping to pull the details of what they were talking about right from Ianto's soul. Lucy wondered if Captain Harkness had been watching them on the CCTV and was skilled in reading lips. She wasn't too bothered if that was the case - she was a prisoner anyway. Ianto, however, was paler than usual.

"Go check the monitors for Rift activity," Jack dismissed Ianto curtly but firmly. He didn't start his interrogation until he was sure the archivist was out of the room.

"Trying to corrupt Mr Jones?" Jack asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I'll tell you now, it's not going to work. It doesn't matter how much money or how many high positions you offer him. He's very loyal to our team."

Lucy smiled sweetly. "Money!" she thought contemptuously to herself. Everyone always assumed that if you offered a person something, it would be money and success. But what she had learned from living in her father's house, and then with her husband, was that where money wouldn't work, envy and pent up frustration, manipulated in the right way, could work even better.

"Now tell me, sweetheart, how did you open the Rift? And please don't waste my time with playing dumb," Jack asked her straight away, not in the mood for matching wits or mind games.

"I didn't," Lucy answered, shaking her head.

"Bullshit!" Jack snapped and hit the table with his fist, making her jump on her seat. "I said I don't have time for playing. So unless you want to share your suite with a Weevil, you'd better start answering when I ask," he spat at her. Lucy could almost imagine him like some enraged Doberman, spitting saliva as he barked. It slightly amused her and a thin smile crept over her lips. She tried to hide it by lowering her head. It wouldn't help her to anger him further by finding him funny.

"I really didn't," she tried to sound serious, not amused. "I heard some people who are devoted to my husband talk about resurrecting him by placing his ring near the Rift when it starts opening. I talked them into using me because I wanted Harry not the Master. The Rift did give a reaction to the proximity of the ring but that is all I know." She decided to be sincere. It wouldn't hurt anyway, now she was caught and the ring was gone, who knows where.

Jack studied her features silently, outwardly looking completely relaxed, with his body leaning back into the chair and his arms crossed. He wasn't smiling, but there wasn't even a muscle moving or twitching in his face to suggest nerves. His eyes were as expressionless and closed as his face. Lucy wished that she could read this man; she wished she knew what he was thinking. Probably deciding that he would not be getting any more information from her, or at least not useful information, he let her go back to her cell.

"Please, not here, not with these creatures again." Lucy tried to appeal to Jack's humanity, but it had no effect, as he give no indication that he even heard her. He locked the door and she wondered if the Torchwood 3 commander possessed any sense of humanity at all.

* * *

><p><strong>Manchester, 1973<strong>

For as long as he knew, the light was all that his world consisted of. He tried to blink it away and open his eyes, but it proved harder than he thought. He wasn't even sure if he could open his eyes and wake up. For that matter- he thought - did he even have eyes? It felt like this out of body experience had been going on for far too long and he was starting to forget which was up and which was down. He was worried that he would forget his newly-acquired knowledge of who he was and what had happened. In fact he had already started to wonder about that. The oh-so-distinct lines between himself and that DI guy that he could draw a moment ago - or was it eons ago? - were starting to blur again.

"Sam…" He suddenly heard a gentle female voice, and in the next moment he felt even gentler hands shaking him lightly. "Sam, don't do that!" He started to hear the other noises around himself and recognised the woman's voice as Annie's. The other noises were the hubbub of the ever-busy police station.

He tried to open his eyes again, this time with more success, after first squinting against the too-bright glare of the neon lights in the station's med-room.

"Finally, Sam," Annie smiled at him, still looking concerned. She helped him lift himself up to sit rather than lie on the sofa and gave him a glass of water. "You OK?"

"I don't know," he told her, feeling too ill to try and explain what had happened. He wasn't sure he understood it himself any more. It all felt like some indistinct dream. Like a time line that he could just about glimpse but never really reach or see. One thing, however, he knew. He knew that in this place where he was now there was someone who knew about time travel. Someone who he could use to get him out of this stinking time and maybe even away from this whole planet. Then he looked at Annie and for some unfathomable reason at that moment he wasn't sure he wanted to leave this place and this time.

"What 'appened, Sam?" she chose that time to ask and the spell was broken. "The Guv said you just blacked out on them while you while you were staking out the gang."

He tried to remember what really happened after the drums started to pound into his head, but he could not remember anything apart from the pain and the noise.

"The drums, that never ending noise," he muttered.

"The, what now?" Annie looked at him taking his face in her hand and studying his eyes intently. She should have talked the Guv into giving Sam more time to recover from that blow on the head in the alley a few days ago. She was sure it had something to do with this.

He was about to snap at her to stop fussing about him when the door banged open and Gene Hunt saved him from being rude again and burning his bridges this time.

"Is our damsel in distress awake now?" Gene barked the question at Annie, and a moment later noticed Sam sitting up on the sofa. " 'Bout time Tyler we have another shout. For a murder this time an' it's brutal. Cause of death looks pretty clear, but it's another junkie."

He sighed. Just when he thought that his day couldn't get any worse, Gene Hunt had to make an appearance and demand his attention.

"I'm all right, Guv, thanks," he told Gene, before tentatively getting off the sofa. "I might have been dying here," he muttered.

"Don't be so dramatic Dorothy, you weren't dying, just had too much sun." Gene scoffed at him good naturedly and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Sun…?" he asked, looking around. Where did the Guv see sun in Manchester? He was sure they didn't even know what sun was. In fact, he was sure that of all the places around the universe he had been, Manchester would easily be the most foggy and depressing one. Sighing, he resigned himself to having to go along with being Sam Tyler and living in this stinky Manchester place for a little while longer.

"OK, where is the current body? Who was the victim?" The Master felt his head clear again and got back into the role of being the DI of the team.

"The body's still on the south side of the river. It's a girl...we still don't know her name," the Guv told him, handing him a manila folder. "'Ere are the pictures we took at the crime scene while you were having your afternoon nap . We left the body there, thought you might want to see it before someone touches it. We also have a suspect who we found nosing around the body. Ray's keeping him in the car."

The Master opened the folder and looked at the pictures. Anyone else but him would probably have felt sick at the gory images. In fact, he could hear Annie trying her best not to retch and gag after sneaking a glance at the pictures. The woman was covered in blood, and gutted. He wasn't sure, but it looked as if her reproductive organs were removed and none too gently. It made even him want to turn his gaze away. Who would do this?

"Who would do something so sick?" Annie asked, giving voice to his questions, while he was looking intently in the pictures.

"Someone who I would gut myself with me own hands," Gene spat, disgusted. He had seen plenty of murders before in his career, but never anything quite so ugly.

"Did you say you have a suspect that Ray is keeping in the car?" the Master asked.

"Yes, we do and if I wasn't in a hurry to come and get you, sleepin' beauty, before we get a crowd of spectators, I would have had his confession already." Gene said, and almost spat saliva in his hunger as he talked.

The part that was Sam Tyler in him was agreeing with Gene Hunt, he would want to leave the person who did that to the girl without teeth. But something in him wouldn't let him care too much; it was only distracting him from his real goal of finding a way out. Because it didn't look like it had much of a connection to the other murders, apart from the girl being a junkie.

When they left the med area and entered the main CID office area, he saw the girl from the park, who had talked to him before he blacked out. She was with a man that the Master knew all too well. The drums in his head started to get louder again and threatened to blind him. He made an effort to shut them out and muffle the sound, but he managed to only make them bearable enough to not pass out. What was the Doctor doing here? Did he knew who he was, and was he going to ruin it all for him and send UNIT on his trail? He was fairly sure that the Doctor was able to sense him; the Time Lords were always able to sense each other. However, if he did, the Doctor was hiding it well.

"DI Tyler, I see you are feeling better, sir?" the girl asked. He was sure he knew her, but he couldn't remember her name.

The Master ignored her concerned question and rounded instead on DCI Hunt.

"What are these two doing here?" he asked angrily. He could not risk working with the Doctor, however amusing it might be to see Gene trying to bully this particular incarnation into doing things Gene's way.

"You will have to excuse DI Tyler. He normally would have gotten out the special welcome doilies and the china tea set but he's not quite himself today, are you Gladys?" Gene said almost cheerfully. Not that Gene Hunt liked working with someone else, especially not when that someone was insisting that Gene had to hand the control over to them. However, he could not say no when the UNIT guy had patiently explained that his organisation had even more jurisdiction than Gene's Superintendent.

"Aren't you going to introduce them if we are going to work together?" The Master asked, matching Gene's false smile.

"Oh, yes, 'course," Gene harrumphed. "DI Sam Tyler, these are UNIT operatives Doctor John Smith and his assistant, Miss Jo Grant. Doctor, Miss Grant, this is my useless lump of a DI."

The Master snorted after hearing the name Doctor John Smith. The aforementioned Doctor Smith looked at him, frowning, but just muttered a quiet "Hmmm…."

They all thought it better to just go to the crime scene and try to get to know each other later. Trying not to notice the tension that was growing in the room, Gene led the way outside towards the Cortina, closely followed by the Master, who was trying to keep away from the Doctor while assessing what he might know about all this.

Gene looked at his DI and thought that Sam looked a bit nervous. He wasn't sure why, but it looked like Sam was uncomfortable around these UNIT operatives.

"What's up then, Tyler?" Gene asked. "You don't like UNIT? Have you had previous dealings with them?" He looked at his DI, trying to understand the situation.

"You could say that, Guv," the Master muttered. "If you give them the freedom to take over the case, they'll push you out completely. They don't work with other people. What were you thinking inviting them, Gene?" he asked angrily. "They're worse than Litton."

"Well, I didn't invite them," Gene harrumphed. "You think I'd invite someone to take my case off me?"

Their conversation was cut short by the others arriving at the Cortina. Gene just gave a nod and a look at the Master that said later and sat in the driving seat. Wherever they were going, the Master didn't think it was a place where the girls Annie and Jo should go, but they looked quite capable of looking after themselves and with working with the Doctor, he was sure that Jo had seen her share of gruesome stuff. Still a butchered body of a girl was something very different to toothy, slimy aliens. The part in him that was Sam Tyler still couldn't believe that someone could do something like this. The anger that rose inside him caused the drums to increase in volume and his eyes became unfocused. He started tapping on the dashboard.

The Doctor cast a glance at the DI sitting in the seat in front of him. Something about the man wasn't quite right and that slightly mad look in his eyes unnerved him, but he didn't know what to make of it yet. He would have to keep a close eye on him, the Doctor thought.

Lost in the sound in his head and the headache that was once again forming behind his skull, the Master didn't feel the car pulling to a stop until Gene Hunt stood in front of him waving his hand and clicking with his fingers.

"Earth to DI Tyler," Gene said, annoyed. "Come on, Dorothy, snap out of whatever crazy place you have gone to this time, we have a job to do."

The Master focused his eyes on Gene and rubbed at his face, before nodding his head and getting out of the car, just to be faced with something he didn't want or expect to see. Ray was standing beside the boot of a car, smoking, looking at the person in the car with disgust on his face. Chris was still retching on the side of the road, currently emptying his stomach. The Master shook his head and looked in the direction of the body. Unexpectedly, he felt sick, probably channelling too much from the Sam's persona. But he couldn't control the gag that rose in his stomach and he had to turn around, breathing deeply and trying not to follow Chris's example. The girl was lying in a pool of her own blood, with all her reproductive organs torn out of her body and lying scattered around.

"Get me that suspect!" he roared angrily at the unfortunate Ray, who was closer to him. When the Master was that angry even Gene Hunt look like the picture of serenity. "Get me that scumbag now!" he bellowed.

What he didn't expect to see when Ray pulled the suspect out of the car was a lanky man in brown pinstripe suit, converses and a long tan coat.

"WHAT?" the man exclaimed when he took one look at the Master.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I want to say a huge thank you to my beta Elfinium for her great work and patience with me being whiny about this chapter. I know it took a while, but this chapter was hard to write. This is probably the one chapter out of the story that I genuinly hate, but after writing and re-writing I had to get it out of the way. I don't even know why I included Ten into the story, but after the last chapter and people actually being etusiastic about having him in, I couldn't take him out of the story. I suppose I'll just have to find him a place.**

**I want to also adopt Brownbug's habit and thank to my reviewers RedBrickandIvy, mericat , Brownbug ,Riddle Wraith , Waffles McTiny ,LyricsArePoetry , angierocks, and Torchwood Cardiff ****for the last chapter. Thank you guys, you make one unworthy writer feel all warm and fuzzy inside.**

* * *

><p>The Master took an involuntary step back from the suspect. It couldn't be him, not now, not when he was so close to finding someone with time travel tech and getting out of there. Sometimes he thought the Universe seemed to have just too wicked a sense of humour. In any other time and situation he might even had appreciated it and found it amusing. But not now; now he wanted to punch and kick and scream against unfairness of it all. The man was still looking at him not less unperturbed, but seemingly having thoughts that were running along the same lines as the Master's. He probably was thinking about the unfairness of the Universe to send him someone who must remind him so much of his foe. Mentally slamming all of his defences into place, the Master drew his face into an unreadable mask.<p>

"What's the matter Boss? Cat got your tongue?" Ray smirked at him, unable to help but comment on his DI's initial shocked reaction.

"Boss?" The man asked, and the Master couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes, had this Doctor always sounded so whiny uttering a simple word or was it the shock now that made him sound like this. And still he couldn't say a word. He didn't trust himself that if he starting to talk he wouldn't blow his cover right off. And there was one more thing that was bothering him; was it actually a cover? From what he remember from that dream-hallucination…whatever, what he remembered saying to Sam was that they were the same, he could not exist being only the Master just as Sam could not exist anymore being only Sam. The difference being that Sam would not be able to handle the Master's mind in his human body should he wake up.

Oh, but that was an opportunity too, if he could play his cards right the Master thought. Because having a Doctor who coincided with his time line meant having the TARDIS there too. He almost laughed at that new thought, wondering if he could be that lucky. Still better tread carefully on that ground. Quickly composing himself, he adopted Sam's professional approach and looked at the man critically.

"DI Sam Tyler, and you Sir are under arrest." The Master said smirking. "Anything you may say could be used against you in a court of law…" he explained pushing the man around and putting the hand cuffs on him. "… If you fail to mention something on which you would rely on later in court it might weaken your defence."

"It doesn't even go like that Boss." Ray was glad to point out unhelpfully, he was always happy for a chance to make fun of Sam.

"What?" asked the man who was supposed to be their suspect? In Gene's eyes he didn't react as one, not to mention that the bloke looked too much of an odd pretty boy to have done something like this. But whoever he was, he had been a bit too interested into the body which on its own made Gene Hunt interested in him.

"The man said you're nicked, are you deaf as well as stupid?" Gene said with voice loaded with sarcasm.

"No, I mean…" the man nodded at Sam and shook his head in complete disbelieve. "I…Master.., but how?"

To everyone's surprise Sam recoiled slightly from the man before locking his features into deliberately expressionless mask.

Shit!

The Master cursed inwardly. That's what he just needed now; Gene was never going to let him live this one down. Shit. And since when did he care if Gene would make fun out of something or not? _Since when your resurrection got botched and you have the consciousness of a DI inside of you_. A small voice in his head tried to argue with him, but his strong will squashed it_. For now._ He wanted to be called Master after all, he chose it so long ago and he insisted on it. _But now you are part Master part Sam_. And there was that small annoying voice again. The moment it reappeared he wanted to choke it out of himself so it would shut up. Still if the Doctor was going to go on about him being the Master and a criminal alien, it was not going to help his situation. Oh sure if it was just Gene and the guys from the CID, piece of a cake. All they would do was to call the white coats and send the Doctor with them with a wave and a smile. But now with the other Doctor and UNIT around it would be a dangerous game that he had to play very carefully.

The first thing would have to be to keep the Doctor away from UNIT until he could think and decide what to do. The best way to do it would be to send the Doctor to CID with Chris or Ray. Making it impossible to stop the Doctor from protesting or talking to anyone else, he opened the back door of the Cortina and pushed the resisting figure inside as he tried to attract Gene's attention again.

"Take him back to the police station. The Guv and I will question him when I'm done here." The Master ordered Ray, hoping that the Doctor would have the grace to keep quiet until they were alone.

However, he was so fixated on the problem that the Doctor could expose him that the Master did not account for the problem that was Gene Hunt. He knew that a lapse in his attention could be fatal, but he probably was getting too comfortable where he was anyway. Or that was the excuse his mind used as justification. The fact that he missed the moment when Gene Hunt got behind the wheel and ordered them to finish up the crime scene while he was getting the collar to the police station, was there, no matter what excuses his mind was making up for it. Seeing the current incarnation of the Doctor, the one that had stopped him on the Valiant was affecting him more than he thought it possible. The noise in his head was starting to increase and he had to take deep, deep breaths to push it away into the back of his mind. He vaguely remembered Gene telling him something about wanting to know more about that Master stuff, but he just waved him off. Right now he couldn't care less, his thoughts were all messed up and he felt light headed. At least, for now, the Doctor was away from Dr Smith, Miss Grant and UNIT, that had to be a good thing after all, right? Though it was a small comfort, the one Sam would have to worry about was Gene, and how he would treat him after he had a conversation with the Doctor. No, not Sam, the Master, he was the Master. He tried to push that part of his consciousness that was Sam deep inside his head again, because it was disjointing his thoughts. He couldn't allow himself to have a personality dilemma at the moment.

All said and done, he still had job to do. So, composing himself as much as it was possible with his head still throbbing, the Master pushed his way towards the crime scene where the old incarnation of the Doctor was crouched by the body. He didn't see Miss Grant and strongly suspected that she was a bit too squeamish to keep her cool around that carnage. Not like Annie he thought almost with pride as he watched her while she worked, taking statements from the people around the riverbank.

"'Ave you found anything new that we didn't see on the photographs?" The Master asked from behind causing the Doctor to start.

"You can give a heart attack to an old man that way, if you are not careful young man," the Doctor scolded, but without much feeling. "Nothing much really, but there is this distant smell, more like a whiff. Can you sense it?" The Doctor asked him.

The Master sniffed and there it was this kind of a metallic smell, like charged electrodes. However, he shook his head negatively, because he was fairly sure that a normal human wasn't supposed to really feel it. Or maybe they were, but with all that was happening he decided to better not risk it. The Master put on plastic gloves and crouched down beside the Doctor carefully taking one of the girl's arms. He turned it over and studied it, frowning lightly.

"She was a junkie too…" the Master muttered. "But the stuff that killed her isn't the same chemical as the others. These are old marks, she probably stopped injecting when she found out she was pregnant. That doesn't change the fact that she was once using, there is some connection between all victims. But what's the connection?" He stood up and tried to wrack his brains, but still couldn't see it. And there was this annoying whiff of metal and electrodes again, he inhaled deeply and thought he almost recognised the smell. Where from… he tried to pull the memories from his pain ridden brain, where did he know this smell from?

The Master turned around on the spot, looking on the ground and the nearest buildings for any clues. On his left was the old boat house; he remembered passing it a few days ago and thinking how bad it smelled around there. So either the victim was in there for some reason, or whoever was responsible for her death may have been. Worth checking in any case. He looked around to find everyone busy, no point in interrupting their work just to tell them that he was going to check on an old house. It was not like he was going into a gun fight, the Master thought and started at a brisk walk towards the boat house.

"Follow him, and see what he is up to. Don't lose sight of him!" the Doctor instructed Jo and pushed her gently towards the direction the Master was going.

She nodded wanting to ask 'why', but kept quiet. She remembered the Doctor telling her once that she asks too many questions. So, she silently followed the oblivious DI Tyler soon losing sight of the river bank and the Doctor. It made something in her stomach drop, but she didn't allow herself much time to think about it. She had her instructions, and if she wanted to be useful assistant, as she promised, she would follow them. Jo just wished that she could see the Doctor and the police officers, in case something happens to her. She almost laughed chiding herself, she was following a police officer, who knows where, and so it couldn't be that bad. She almost lost sight of him being so deep in her thoughts, but the creaking of an old rusty door being open brought her back to the task and she saw Sam Tyler slip into the opening, and quickly followed him.

The interior could not have been more different than the old rusty exterior. Everything looked polished and high-tech, there were vials with some strange coloured liquid and jars with various parts of strange creatures. Jo didn't want to even start to think what kind of monsters they must have been. Now everything looked a lot less like a normal crime solving day in Manchester CID, and more like a normal day in her UNIT career. Sam didn't look too startled, or surprised which unnerved her. He was examining a jar and a vial as an amused smile tugged at his lips. She wondered who this man really was.

She heard him laugh and clap forcefully, visibly trying as much as possible to look amused.

"Bravo!" he shouted. "Oh, come on luv you can show yourself now. You know I think is funny how I didn't guess this from the beginning. What is that chemical? Another of your experiments?"

Jo wondered what he was on about and almost mustered the courage to ask him out loud when two simultaneously hisses of escaping gas sounded and first Sam then Joe crumbled to the ground.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **I want to thank **Dengirl** for her help with this chapter. Also the chapter is not properly betaed, but I wanted to post because I'm half way through the next chapter, I promise the moment I have the betead chapter back from Elfinium I'll replace this with the edited version.

Also a special thank you to the people who reviewed the last chapter: **Torchwood Cardiff, RedBrickandIvy, Brownbug, LyricsArePoetry and Riddle Wraith. You are the reason I still write this.**

* * *

><p>Sound was the first thing that came back to him, which wasn't much to go by as it was a mixture of beeps and annoying beats, closely resembling a drum beat. He knew he needed to think, but it was impossible to concentrate when his thoughts and feelings were all jumbled .He couldn't even gather enough coherent thought to know who he was really. He had some vague fleeting idea that he was supposed to be doing something, but he couldn't think what it was.<p>

He tried to open his eyes, but there was just a vast nothingness around him, a complete darkness. Not the mere absence of light that would suggest a room in which the lights were off, but a big gaping void of all else but absolute darkness. His thoughts and awareness were lost to the sheer black space in front of him. He was sure that he could hear a female voice near him, but he wasn't sure if it was the same voice that he usually heard when it pleaded with him not to give up and to keep fighting, or if it was Annie, or possibly someone else entirely.

Awareness started to come back slowly. Too slow for his liking, but there was nothing he could do about it. He tried to relax, but the buzz in his head wasn't letting him. Trying not to let out that he was waking up he cracked his eyes slightly open and tried to peer through the cracks between his eyelids. Assessing the situation wasn't easy while pretending to still be unconscious, but since he wasn't sure where he was and why he was there he needed to keep the pretence as long as he could. What he saw was a grey, semi dark featureless room. The light that came through the windows was blocked out by wooden crates.

The Master wasn't sure how much time had passed since the last time he was awake, but it was probably several hours since, the light that made it through the cracks in the windows was the pale light of dusk. He didn't dare move his body or head yet and look around properly, and he didn't need to really. He could feel the steel of his own handcuffs biting into his wrists and the cold metal floor beneath himself.

"You know I can tell that you are awake now, no need to play possum with me," a melodic female voice came from his left.

The speaker was a middle aged woman, who clearly tried to look younger. The woman had a fabulous body the Master noted and then wanted to mentally kick himself. Focus, he told himself silently. She wore tight fitting red pants, or possibly leggings and what looked like a futuristic top. Her hair was dark brown and slightly wavy and shoulder length.

"Ushas?" the Master whispered still not trusting his parched throat to speak aloud.

"If you know me so well you know that my name is not Ushas anymore…" the Rani said forcibly keeping calm and studying his face. "What bothers me is how you know that name? Who are you DI Tyler?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the Master said amused doing his best to not show his discomfort. It wouldn't do to show weakness, not with this woman.

"So, DI Tyler, you like to play games?"

The Rani crouched next to him taking his chin in her hand and turning his head towards her so he would look her straight in the eyes. "Let's play a different game then. How about me and you bet on how soon this chemical would kill you? It took the other humans about couple of days to kill them, how strong are you DI Tyler?"

The Master grinned, that slightly manic grin, the one that even his- for what of a better word- alter ego possessed. Mind games then, he couldn't say he didn't enjoy mind games but he did prefer them on his terms. Still, after having to deal with these primitive times and apes for the last few days, someone intelligent who could keep up with him, was most welcome.

"Oh, I know," he said, "how about another one. How about we bet on how long it will take me to get free from here and come after you?"

If the Rani was surprised by his brash answer or worried by his treats she hid it well, and her only reaction was a sharp intake of breath and a sarcastic smile.

"My, my, you don't seem to understand the situation you are in DI Tyler, "she said her rueful smile not dimming at all."I'm not worried by your petty human laws and police regulations. What you don't seem to understand is that so far no one of the human males lived over two days after injecting into their veins what I just injected in yours, and their dose was tamed by the other drugs and in lesser amounts."

To her immense disbelieve that insolent man actually laughed at her treat.

"Isn't it marvellous that I'm not human then?" he asked. "Aren't I lucky, oh I must be born under a lucky star." He looked thoughtful, chewing on his lip. "Only I don't believe in that. Not in the stars mind you, I've been around them for quite a while."

He stopped again thinking and scowling. "And I was poking fun at the Doctor for being a motor mouth."

The Rani's amused expression by that point was rapidly morphing into one of annoyance and fury. He could see the cogs of her head working overtime; she was clearly confused, but didn't like the idea of asking him again who he was. 'Oh come on, you're a clever girl aren't ya, work it out,' the Master thought wondering what was awaiting him when she eventually work it out.

The Rani took another deep breath as if trying to smell him, or something in the air around him, and he knew that was exactly what she was doing; she was trying to sniff his Time Lord essence.

What shocked him was the realisation that she couldn't sense anything. He felt sick and something tightened his throat, settling a sense of dread into his stomach.

"I don't know what you are or who you are DI Tyler but you are human," the Rani told him dismissively now becoming quite bored and he dreaded what she could do when she was no longer amused by his presence.

"Oh come on, you can do better than this, try again, I might register as human at first, because I'm half human and half Time Lord, but you would sense it." he probed, hoping that he didn't sound too needy.

It wouldn't do for the Master to sound needy, even though he needed this confirmation that he wasn't entirely human and was the Master not Sam Tyler. She looked bored and disinterested, but before she straightened up she threw him a look of disgust.

Oh, but of course he knew how a proud true blood Time Lord would feel about some half breed like him. After telling her that he is half human she probably just lost all interest in him, could even feel offended.

At least that was something that would keep him amused until he got out of these cuffs.

"Well if you are half-blood then I won't have any qualms about killing you. And you being half human means that you are not immune to my chemical," the Rani smiled at him wickedly. "I just have to up the dose."

When she turned around to do exactly that he took his opportunity to surprise and hopefully startle her.

"I'm the Master," he announced arrogantly despite his undignified position.

He expected a variation of different reactions, but he never expected her to just laugh at him as if some idiot in an institute said that they had a Physics MA. She laughed now, looking genuinely amused. He wasn't sure if he had ever before seen the Rani genuinely amused but she did look quite attractive like this…_Focus_… he scolded himself, these human hormones were starting to become a nuisance.

"Oh, now, now, when you try to impress me you should have chosen anyone else but him," the Rani said dismissively at him. "The Master, half human? He would rather die. Beside right now I'm working with him, and I don't remember having him cuffed to the wall of my newly acquired laboratory. "

Yes, she was right she did work with the other incarnation of him, so that was what was going on here, him and the Rani but it didn't make too much sense.

Him and the Rani, what could they possibly have of an interest in Manchester? Not that there had ever been something that important in Manchester to be useful to two gods like creatures like himself and the Rani.

He could see how the humans could be of interest to the Rani, being useful as lab-rats for her.

She had picked a really bad time, what with the Doctor's third incarnation stuck on Earth and working for UNIT. However, what did he have to do with everything? It was still a bit unclear to him, probably having the human inside him was messing up with his memories of his past.

The fact that she was working with his past incarnation wasn't surprising. Although she was a clever genius and a heartless bitch, she wasn't all that good at megalomaniac plans without his help. It wasn't the only time she'd co-operated with him, so no surprise there. What surprised him was how they could cross their timelines.

Of course he and the Doctor crossed theirs, especially the Doctor who did this almost constantly, but they both were out of the time lock when the Time War ended. And that was the only way they could, otherwise their time lines should have been locked.

They should not be able to cross her timeline unless she was outside the Time Lock, but then how did they never feel her? Unless…unless she was hiding as a human the way he did. Yes, that was the only logical conclusion, he wondered if he ever bumped into her without knowing.

For that matter where and when she would be now?

His thoughts were rudely interrupted when the Rani came back to him holding a hypodermic syringe. She smiled at him again and came down to his level on the floor so she could see him square on the face.

"The Master or not I have no use for you," she said to him evenly. "I'm having enough trouble dealing with you in one incarnation. I don't really need to deal with two versions of you."

The Master quirked an eyebrow at her and tried to stop her through sheer will and with a gaze and hoped he hadn't lost his trademark hypnotic stare.

"Aren't you going to tell me at least what all that with the heroin was about before you kill me?" he asked her smirking. "You don't want to gloat just a bit?"

The Rani's laugh rang around the room and echoes off the walls. He wondered how no one could hear this outside, and if actually they do what would they think? They would probably think that it was some junkies having a party.

"Really dear? Don't underestimate my intelligence," the Rani said faking hurt dignity. "You are the one who likes the gloating until someone figures how to stop you, not me."

He had to give her that; she was right on that one. He used to be the one for dramatics and gloating especially in the incarnation she was currently working with. But he was past this now, or he liked to think that he was past this; maybe the little spark of DI Tyler inside of him would correct this fetish of his. Still he was the one in the position to try and think of a way out now. How the tables could turn around, he thought.

He needed to get her to talk and learn more about that chemical especially if he had it in himself now. He needed information on what it was and how to neutralise it before it became too late.

"But you must be proud of your work," he said probing her again. "And is not like I'll live to stop you, beside I'm probably the only one here that would understand and appreciate your work. All these dumb apes around, they have no idea at all."

The Rani sighed trying to appear frustrated, but it was apparent that she was giving in and would soon start to speak. Good, he thought, the Doctor probably was right then that villains did like their dramatic speeches, no matter if they are scientists or dictators.

Well he had to learn and break the habit. Now though, he tried everything possible to make her talk.

"Very well then, if you must know," the Rani said, clearly trying to hide the excitement in her voice and appear bored. "If you are the Master you should know, but I suspect that whatever's happened has messed up your mind." She gave him a sarcastic smile. "Whatever happened made you almost as inferior as these humans."

He growled and would have lunged for her if he wasn't handcuffed to the wall. The Rani however, just ignored him and kept on talking as if she was talking to herself now.

"Would you believe if I tell you that what I use is Oestrogen?" she chuckled. "So simple, but this time is so primitive that the archaic technology here can't detect it."

"Oestrogen?" the Master asked genuinely surprised. "But that's not you. Is too simple, others have already created it, so where's the catch?" He couldn't really believe that was all, if he knew her at all the Rani would have something up her sleeve.

Moments later she didn't disappoint him when she turned back to look him in the eyes, rolled her eyes and smiled darkly.

"You are underestimating me again and here I thought you knew me well. How disappointing," she said with another roll of her eyes. "Of course I had something to add, as you might know Oestrogen is a chemical that controls female fertility, but give it to a male and it kills them nice and clean. All I needed from the actual Oestrogen was that I could combine it with the one I made and easily transfer it around without getting detected by UNIT. Unfortunately the creatures I used to fertilize the girls with turned a bit vicious, so UNIT was on my tail anyway …"

She stopped and looked annoyed at him.

"Oh, so you had to pass it off as a normal drug, but it had to be something new to hold the interest of the junkies around," the Master said finally confident that he had worked it out.

So that was it then, she needed guinea pigs for her experiments with her chemical and the Earth was the most suitable. The heroin was only a convenient coincidence, and it didn't look like she would be happy to give him a lift back to the future, so it was the Doctor's TARDIS then.

"But that's not all is it?

"Yes, of course you want to know 'your' role in it."

She used "your" sceptically as if she still didn't believe that he was the Master, but was working on it. "Your past incarnation needed to do some cleaning job, I needed subjects to test it on, so as you see it worked perfectly for both of us."

He nodded. Yes, it did sound logical, and it did sound that it was a good plan; the only thing that they hadn't thought of was obviously himself and the CID. Whatever someone could think or say of Gene Hunt the man was damn good copper, it wasn't easy to give him the slip.

"But that's enough chat," the Rani said obviously bored by that time.

She did not give him enough time to come up with a witty answer before plunging the syringe into his neck. His world once more became a world of darkness and hot red pain.

* * *

><p>Gene Hunt was on the end of his patience by the time he parked the car in front of the CID. The guy on the back seat really didn't know when to shut up, and it seemed that he couldn't get the polite or not so polite hint.<p>

He was constantly prattling on about the Manchester weather, his DI, and the unfairness of the situation. He even complained about the incompetency of the police work, and how they just assumed that because someone was standing near a body that is accidently a part of a gruesome murder and that same guy has a bit of a blood on himself and just because he needed to be close to the body to investigate meant that the guy was automatically guilty.

"What happened to innocent until proven guilty?" the man from the backseat asked while Gene was opening the door.

"Maybe in yer' posh London city it goes like this, but 'ere you are guilty until proven innocent," Gene Hunt said grumpily.

He took the man by the scruff of his suit jacket and started to push him towards the CID's entrance, still feeling frustrated and puffing grumpily. He only acknowledged Phyllis by nodding at her and telling her to make sure that the 'Lost and found' room was free for interrogation.

"Lost and found?" the man asked bemused. "I'm not lost, you know I know exactly where I am and what is more important in this situation, I know that your DI shouldn't be here."

Gene just puffed more exaggeratedly to show the collar his displeasure and make him uncomfortable, but the man seemed just as clueless, as he was all the way through the drive to the station. It really grated on Gene's nerves and he wanted to finish with this interrogation as fast as he could.

What he suspected the problem was not that he would have trouble getting the guy to talk; rather once he got him talking Gene wasn't sure he would be able to make him shut up.

The grumpy policeman pushed the Doctor through the doors of a dank and dim room that was stocked with iron shelves and a variety of things, some of which looked that they might be found but weren't necessarily lost, they were most likely deliberately abandoned.

The Doctor sighed lightly and prepared himself for yet another round of Q&A with another stupid ape. The man haven't even introduced himself or asked the Doctor for his name yet.

The man closed the door behind them and gestured for the Doctor to sit on one of the chairs in the centre of the room that were placed in front of a table.

He sat across from the Doctor and placed a few items on the table in front of himself. The Doctor barely suppressed his desire to shake his head; none of the items were useful for a police officer in interrogation.

"Right, of course, I forgot I'm in an archaic era with no consideration of office co-workers," the Doctor protested. "Don't you know that is not good to smoke in the office? People who don't smoke might complain. I personally don't like it when people smoke around me. Do you mind putting that cigarette out?"

The Doctor finished his complain by theatrically waving in front of himself to blow the smoke away from his face and coughed and frowned exaggerated.

Gene blew the smoke into his face and leaned over the table putting his elbows on it and putting his face almost nose to nose with the Doctor.

"Have I asked you a question?" he asked the Doctor calmly.

"Nope," the Doctor said brightly popping the 'p'.

"Then why the 'ell are you opening yer gob?" Gene said with voice that still sounded even and confident. "You are gonna talk when I ask you to. If I don't, you keep yer gob shut. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly," the Doctor answered unfazed by this Wild West act that the cop was trying to perform in the hopes to intimidate him.

Nothing much could intimidate the Doctor, during his long life Daleks, Sontarans and Cybermen couldn't do it, so a simple 70's police chief wasn't going to do it now.

Gene puffed another cloud of smoke and leaned back on his chair, he sat there relaxing his body and taking slow deliberately long draws of his cigarette trying to unnerve his suspect with the silence and the waiting.

The Doctor smiled amicably knowing that game very well, he was unfortunate enough to have been in an interrogation rooms all over the Universe. With a life like his you often ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time, the Doctor was happy that at least at the moment he was alone and didn't have to worry about companions.

Finally Gene's patience ran out and he crushed the fag into the ashtray.

"I'm DCI Gene Hunt," Gene finally informed him. "Now what's your name and what did you do to the girl?"

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at DCI Hunt and shifted on his seat.

"Dr John Smith from UNIT, and I didn't do anything to the girl. I was investigating, and it was going okay until you lot came and stomped all over the place like a herd of bulls."

The Doctor lost his smile now and looked Gene square in the eyes with a cold but determined expression. The human looked at him with fury and stood to his feet sharply, sending the chair sliding with the screech on the floor.

"Yes, and I'm the prince of Malaysia," Gene said with sarcasm his steely eyes now glaring daggers at the Doctor.

It caused the Time Lord to lean slightly backwards away from the man.

"We already have Dr Smith and his assistant Miss Grant from UNIT here, and you aren't 'im. So pull the other one. "

"Oh," the Doctor said a bit worried. He had forgotten about his younger incarnation, he hoped that he wasn't going to meet him, or the killed girls would be the world's least problem, or probably not.

He had met his other incarnations before and nothing world threatening had happened. "OK, you got me there, suppose I have to start the introduction again. Hello," the Doctor waved, "I'm the Doctor!"

"Doctor who?" Gene spat at him, barely restricting himself from punching his smirk off his face.

"Oh, just the Doctor," the Doctor said nonchalantly waving with his hand to indicate that it really wasn't all that important. Later he would berate himself for not noticing the signs that should have been really clear as to what was going to happen.

Maybe he was becoming either a bit too arrogant or careless.

"Right, "Gene said straightening himself and threw a punch sending the Doctor careering backwards and falling from the chair to the ground.

He held a tentative hand over his cheekbone under his eye and winced. Even with his superior Time Lord biology this was going to bruise, this man really had a heavy hook.

"Aww," the Doctor complained and touched his cheek once more. "What was that for?"

"You either start answering my questions properly," Gene said not bothering to give an explanation of the violence. He lifted the Doctor by the lapels of his coat back onto the chair and sat across of him before continuing. "You either cut the bullshit or I'll tear you a new hole."

The Doctor had heard something about the brutal police force in the 70's but this one was crossing all boundaries. He would never allow a human, or whatever other species for that matter to punch and boss him around, it was time to take the matters in his own hands he thought.

It didn't matter that his other incarnation was here as a representative of UNIT, he had his psychic paper and was going to us it. He didn't want his path to clash with his younger self, so he needed to use another excuse to investigate. And no less important, he needed to find out what the Master's part was playing in what was happening around here. His rival's assumed role of a DI bothered him strongly.

"Well, you have to content yourself with the name, the Doctor," he said flashing the DCI his psychic paper. "Because that's all you are going to get is a name. I'm with Torchwood and we are investigating alien threats. That creature that killed the girl is not human. And you should keep an eye on your DI, he's dangerous."

* * *

><p><strong>AN2: Please excuse my characterisation of the Rani, but I haven't watched her for years and I don't remember much of her character, also I needed her just for one or two scenes so I didn't feel like starting a research. **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I want to thank Brownbug and Torchwood Cardiff for their reviews on the last chapter. Thank you girls you are the only two reviewers who are still sticking to this story. **

**Also want to say thank you to Brownbug offering to be my beta now that my original beta is missing, and for being beta for this chapter; also for encouraging me to don't give up on finishing this story. **

**A/N 2: The lyrics of Test Card's Girl chant don't belong to me; they belong to The Door's song "The End".**

Beep…beep…beep…beep….

He was back in that dark place, but this time there was something else in there with him, as opposed to the earlier complete nothing. There was a sound matching his single heartbeat - the steady beep…beep of the medical heart monitor. He tried to stretch his hearing and his senses to hear more, maybe that soft woman's voice that he has heard before when the beeping of the machine starts in his head. He didn't know the woman, but he was sure that Sam knew her and that made him feel safe whenever he heard her voice. But this time there was nothing there except the steady beeping, stretching on endlessly.

He thought of putting his hands up to his ears to block the beeping sound, but he wasn't sure he even had hands in this place. If he had, he couldn't feel or see them. Gradually the beeping subsided from a loud piercing noise into a quieter and more steady one; only then he could hear soft female voice humming some tune quietly to him.

"Do you remember this one Sammy?" the woman asked him, but he couldn't make out what she was humming, or see her. He could hear her voice, but that and the sound of the heart monitor were the only things that broke the dark and the silence around him. "The doctors say they are going to turn off your life support in a few hours, and I agreed. I'm sorry Sammy, but I can't watch you any longer lying here like this. Maybe if you recognise this tune and wake up…" The woman couldn't finish because she started to sob quietly.

The panic on hearing these words struck him like a physical blow. He wanted to scream. If only he had a voice at that moment, he knew he would be screaming blue murder at them. He wanted to shout for them to listen to him, and not to turn off the life support. Desperately, he tried to find his voice to plead with his mother to wait, to tell them that he was still alive, still there, and if they switched off his life support they were going to murder him.

Slowly, the beeping started to fade away and the drum beats started to mix up with the heart monitor's sound. His mother's – no, not his mother's - the woman's voice had faded away too now. He seemed to have been staring at the blackness for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like to have a physical body. But then the total vacuum of the darkness around him started to dissolve into something resembling grey spots that started to dance before what he thought must be his eyes. He tried to focus on the spots, hoping that they were just a side effect of the darkness inside his brain being blinded by new light gradually filtering through to him. However, they refused to disappear, and the space around him never actually came into view as a lit room. Instead, the spots flew closer and closer and closer, until the strange, blurry objects metamorphosed into several grey metal balls, floating in the air in front of him. The balls started to taunt him in mocking voices, confusing him even further, because somehow he was sure that he shouldn't feel spooked by them.

"Mister Master, don't hide from us…" they were chanting with their children voices. "Where are you? Come out and play with us, Mister Master, please! We are so lonely here. Come on, play with us!"

He tried to tell himself that it wasn't real. It was all in his head, an illusion probably caused either by the drug that the Rani had injected him with, or by some new blow to the head. But they were so close, and looked and sounded so real, that his mind just couldn't get past what he was seeing, couldn't accept what he knew was the logical explanation. He didn't know if he was angry with the human DNA that was intervening with his rational Time Lord mind, or if he was more scared that he seemed to be gradually becoming more and more human, thinking like a little ape rather than a Time Lord. While concentrating on trying to put shields up in this strange place, he almost missed the new sound. The voice was a child's as well, but it was clearly female, unlike the voices of the Toclafane, which he had been unable to distinguish as either male or female.

"Sam, where are you Sammy?" It was the Test Card Girl, if he wasn't mistaken. He wondered who else he would hear. Was this some limbo he was stuck in until he died? A place where his and Sam's horrors would stalk him until he paid for his sins?

"Sam, Sammy, where are you?" the girl sing-songed.

He fancied he could hear his breathing getting ragged, despite being in a non-corporeal place where he didn't really need to breathe. The darkness cleared further and he now could see a single spotlight lighting one place, like a stage spotlight focused on a performer. Accustomed to the darkness in this strange place, the Master was temporally blinded. He blinked several times to clear his vision, wondering why his vision had suddenly returned now, and why wasn't he waking up? When his eyesight returned sufficiently for him to be able to see clearly, he could make out the shape of the Test Card Girl in the centre of the spotlight, hugging her clown doll under one arm. She moved with slow steps, deliberately putting one foot in front of the other, in slow motion. Her steps echoed loudly into the quiet space, drowning out the noises of the heart monitor and the drums. Her every step was followed by a word that she sang to him:

"The killer woke before down, he put his boots on,

He took a face from the ancient gallery,

And he walked on down the hall ."

She gripped her clown tighter and rocked slightly on her heels, humming before resuming the sing-song chant.

"This is the end,

Beautiful friend.

This is the end,

My only friend, the end.

It hurts to set you free,

But you will never follow me.

The end of laugher and soft lies,

The end."

When she ended the chant, she was standing face to face with him, the dazzling spotlight blinding him again now, shining straight into his face. The light was too bright, causing him to close his eyes and plunging him into the vacuum of the darkness once again. He wasn't sure what scared him more - the Toclafane and the Girl, or their lack now and the nowhere space of the darkness.

Other voices reached him now, the voices of the medical staff and the girl that he had started to recognise as Rose Tyler. They were arguing over him, Sam - Rassilon this gave him a headache - and the procedure of switching off the life support. There was the whine of machinery and before the awareness left him completely, he heard the Rose girl shout at the medics to turn the life support back on, because she had Rift activity again.

Parallel World, 2006

The medic was starting to look frustrated, trying to once again explain to the blonde Torchwood operative the situation with their patient. The comatose DCI was scheduled for turning off of his life support machines; the doctors had declared him virtually dead. They had managed to finally get the reluctant agreement of his mother, after a lot of persuasion and explanation of how there was nothing they could do for DCI Tyler any more and the only thing was to prolong his coma, keeping him on life support. In the end his mother, Mrs Tyler, gave in and gave her permission to switch his machines off. And that was when Torchwood showed up, demanding that the hospital keep the man alive, with all his medical records to be handed over to them. Agent Tyler might look like a gentle woman, but she could be damn insistent and was more than capable of throwing her weight around.

"Miss Tyler," the medic started, trying once again to reason with her.

"Agent Tyler," the woman corrected him coldly.

"Yes, sorry, Agent Tyler," Doctor Wauchope said curtly, taking the medical chart from Sam's bed and holding it up for Rose Tyler to look at. "He hasn't shown any signs of returning consciousness, or even of any brain activity beyond the basic motor functions, such as twitching from time to time."

Rose took a deep breath, trying to get her nerves under control. She had her instructions from Torchwood. Well, they were actually orders, but everyone preferred to pretend that they were instructions, not being comfortable with giving orders to the daughter of the head of Torchwood. The stubborn resistance of the police chief's medic didn't help matters at all, but she couldn't let them to go through with turning off the life support. She and Torchwood had a lot of tests and work yet to do here.

"I'm telling you that you don't have permission to switch off the life support," Rose Tyler said, barely restraining herself from shoving her credentials at the medic and ordering the ward closed to everybody but Torchwood. The temptation to pull rank to get her way was very strong, but she knew she couldn't do that to Sam's mother. "We need him functioning, even if it's just on the bed, hooked to machines. I don't necessarily need him awake!" she finished, and inwardly felt ashamed of what she was saying, which she knew was a direct result of how hard the work for Torchwood had turned her. Her compassion wasn't totally gone, of course. At the end of the day, Rose Tyler had enough compassion to have some left, despite her job. But she couldn't help but wonder briefly what her Doctor would think of her if he heard her now?

"Agent Tyler, we have the permission of his mother. It will be easier for everyone if we just let him go," the medic argued, hoping to get his point through. "I don't care what Torchwood wants, you can go and do your research and experiments somewhere else. We are a hospital; we care about our patients and try to be as humanitarian as we can. Keeping him in a vegetative state is not helping anyone."

Outwardly, the doctor tried to appear calm and professional, as though his mind was made up and he was quite unprepared to accept any argument to the contrary. In actual fact, he was a little shocked at his own temerity in opposing the demands of an organisation like Torchwood. He had heard a lot of stories about disappearances and covert operations, but he was sure that they wouldn't do something like that just because he stood up to them regarding a patient. Well, he was almost certain. But he had been the one who had been forced to have that hard talk with Mrs Tyler; it had been his gentle arguments that had eventually persuaded the grieving mother to accept that her son was practically dead and that she needed let him go. There was no way he wanted to put her through the whole ordeal again by trying to explain why the hospital had temporarily changed their minds.

"I'm going to come with the head of Torchwood if I have to!" Rose wasn't going to give up and act unprofessionally, personal feelings and morals notwithstanding. "Torchwood is going to treat this as a state of world security threat."

Doctor Wauchope looked back at her with contempt, his lips pressed into thin line, clearly showing his displeasure and what he thought of Torchwood and their approach to sensitive cases like this.

"This is not one of your alien invasions, Miss Tyler! This is a human life, someone's son dying on a hospital bed." Doctor Wauchope turned to the door, effectively dismissing her.

"This patient still has some sort of connection to the continued rift activity, which is a threat to this planet," Rose said, following the doctor out of the room. "I'm going to stop you from doing this, even if I have to close the ward and put it under Torchwood jurisdiction. Now I'm going to have my lunch. Good day, Doctor Wauchope."

Manchester CID, 1973.

Gene looked at the credentials that this so-called 'Doctor' flashed at him and couldn't argue even if he wanted to. The only thing he could do was to grump out a barely audible, "Bloody Torchwood," and close the interrogation. No one knew what exactly Torchwood was supposed to be, but every high-ranking police officer knew that they were important and out of the CID's league. Some people, like Litton, liked to think that they were the UK version of the CIA In fact, Gene wouldn't be surprised if Litton wasn't hoping to get noticed by them.

"First UNIT, now Torchwood - my life just gets better and better," Gene complained, standing up and readying himself to leave the 'Lost and found' room. "So what is it then? Yer CIA lot are going to try and take my case? 'Cose that's not gonna happen, not in my city."

"We are not the CIA," the Doctor said, shaking his head and barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes. "There are some things here that are way out of your league, and DI Tyler is one of them."

Hunt snorted and looked back at the Doctor with a thunderous face that promised pain for whoever wasn't careful enough until he calmed down. He had heard that Torchwood were supposed to deal with crazy things, but he never heard that being a member of Torchwood required you to actually be crazy. However, this man was starting to make him wonder!

He turned on his heel sharply and stalked back to the Doctor, pulling him up from the chair and holding him close to himself.

"I don't know what your problem with DI Tyler is, but he's been the best bloody copper I've worked with for a long time now," Gene spat in the Doctor's face. "So unless I catch 'im into doing something criminal, dangerous or obscuring the case, I advise you to keep your problems to yourself. If someone from your spooky CIA agency so much as touches 'im, I'm gonna tear yer asses up. Understood?"

The Doctor just nodded, stunned, and Gene released him back into the chair nodding his approval and taking the Doctor's shocked silence for agreement to leave his DI alone.

"One more thing," Gene said, before opening the door and leaving the room. "Don't ever tell 'im what I just said."

The Doctor stood there long after Gene Hunt had left the lost property room, amazed at how much loyalty the Master had inspired in the man. Gene might have seemed like a brute at first and a bit of a gruff, as well as just forceful, but the Doctor was sure that his heart was in the right place and he was able to be really loyal. Whether the Master had used hypnosis to convince Gene, the Doctor wasn't sure, but he promised himself he would find out.

He exited the room to find the CID main room in total uproar. The police officer with the moustache, who was guarding him in the car at the crime scene, was arguing quietly with DCI Hunt, but stopped when he saw the Doctor leaving the room.

"So we don't have suspect again?" the man asked, annoyed. "What are you, some fancy secret agent? UNIT weren't enough?"

The Doctor just shrugged and ignored the man, not wanting to get himself into a pointless argument. Besides he had done already enough damage using Torchwood's name, no one was supposed to know about the organisation. And he was sure that the DCI was not going to keep it from his team who they were dealing with.

Ray was clearly going to say something else but at that moment Chris Skelton entered the room in a tearing hurry and came to a sharp stop, right into the Guv's personal space, something he would never do in normal circumstances. This more than anything disrupted the argument and gained Gene's attention.

"Guv, the Boss is missing," Chris said breathlessly, cutting right to the matter at hand without bothering to greet anyone present. "He went after some lead and he hasn't reported since then. No one has seen him, and he won't answer his radio."

The Doctor took sharp breath letting it out through his nose. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and leaned into the desk behind him, trying for nonchalant. He was so tempted to tell Gene Hunt, I told you so, but however talented he usually was at getting himself into trouble, he still had some instincts for self-preservation. He was sure that the Master probably had what he wanted and now he'd disappeared. Oh well, he would have to track him down again and then he could find out how it was that he was alive.

At the edge of his vision the Doctor saw Gene snatching a radio from one of the team and turning it on.

"DI Tyler, report," Hunt demanded. After a few charged moments in which no response came through, Gene tried again. "Dammit, Tyler I said, report! What's the point in you taking yer radio with you if you're not going to answer it?"


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: First I want to thank Brownbug for being my beta- reader so I don't have to give up on this story just yet. Also for her support and encouragement and not letting me stop writing. However the quality of the chapters is dropping when I lack reviews and just think of finishing it off. **

**What to also say thank for their reviews on the last chapter to Brownbug and my new reviewer wolf-wolf.**

* * *

><p>Silently, the Doctor watched Gene Hunt unsuccessfully trying to contact his DI on the radio. The Detective Chief Inspector was clearly getting more and more frustrated. The Time Lord couldn't help giving a bit of an inward smirk – after all, it served Hunt right for not listening to him when he told him that Sam wasn't who they thought he was. However, the more he looked at DCI Hunt frantically shaking the radio and getting worried for his subordinate, the more the Doctor couldn't shake the nagging feeling that maybe he was wrong and Sam Tyler looking like the Master really was some sort of coincidence. He knew it wasn't, or rather his rational side knew it. Even though he couldn't sense a Time Lord presence inside Sam, he was still sure of who had stood in front of him. If nothing else, the look of recognition and the initial shock and recoil from the man told the Doctor all he needed to know about exactly who he was.<p>

Still unable to make any contact with his DI, Gene Hunt turned sharply towards the Doctor and his face was even more thunderous than it was a couple of moments ago, if that was possible. Strangely, the Doctor found himself reminded of the looks some of his teachers used to give him back in his Academy days and he automatically started to fidget, shifting from foot to foot under that steady, scrutinising gaze. After what seemed like a longer moment than it probably was in reality, Hunt puffed out a heavy breath and beckoned the Doctor closer to him.

"Ok, tell me what your problem with my DI is?" Gene asked gruffly. "Go on, I'm all ears."

"Now, when you say all ears…" the Doctor chuckled, remembering the large ears of one of his past incarnations. But then, after the pointed look the DCI threw his way, he shook his head. "Right, sorry, you wanted to know about my problem with DI Tyler. Well, you see…," the Doctor said, rubbing nervously at the back of his head, suddenly conscious of just how ludicrous what he was about to say was going to sound. "He's not really DI Tyler. In fact, he's not even human. His name is the Master and he's a Time Lord."

The Doctor said all this in one quick rush of a breath and then looked around at them all. His words were followed by a total silence in the room and then a loud snort from Gene Hunt, which unleashed a flood of laughter from the rest of CID.

DS Carling made a gesture towards the phone, indicating to Hunt that he was going to call the white coats, but still not doing it just because he thought it was funnier to watch the Guv having a go at that Doctor chap.

"Guv, are you sure he's not better off in a room with white bouncy walls than here in the police station?" Ray smirked, his hand still hovering over the phone.

The Doctor could see Gene preparing to answer with something snarky of his own, but at that moment his past incarnation - or rather Doctor Smith from UNIT, as the others here knew him - ran into the room and approached the small group around the Doctor.

"My assistant, Miss Grant, is missing," Doctor Smith said worriedly to them. He didn't much like the idea of having to ask the police for help, but it appeared Jo had gone and got herself into some sort of trouble and, with the Master around and a murderer on the loose, he really needed to act fast.

The Doctor swallowed down his desire to shout, "Jo is missing?", not wanting to add to his problems by provoking unanswerable questions from his past self. While it was possible that his younger incarnation had already picked up on the fact that he was his future self, the Doctor thought it most likely that it wouldn't immediately register with him, just as it hadn't when he met his Fifth incarnation not so long ago.

So he turned his attention back to DCI Hunt instead and asked, "You heard the man, the girl is missing, we can't leave it at that. What are we going to do?"

In fact, Jo being missing had provided him with a much-needed diversion, distracting Gene's attention from his last, frankly insane comment. Well, insane for normal people like Hunt and his merry band of police officers, the Doctor thought. In his opinion, he had only been stating the facts. Still, he felt a little pang of guilt at being grateful for Jo's possible abduction. Knowing both her and the Master, he was sure that the other Time Lord had something to do with the girl being in trouble. In the past, she had always had a knack of getting herself hypnotised or otherwise threatened by the Master. While the Doctor was pondering these thoughts inside his head and trying to make up his mind if he should mention any of them to the others, Gene had completely lost interest in him and was now occupied by Doctor Smith.

"This assistant of yours was blonde, right?" Gene asked Dr Smith, unsure whether he remembered the girl correctly, since he hadn't really paid much attention to her.

"Yes, but I fail to see how that fact can be relevant," Dr Smith said wryly, trying to politely maintain his patience with the man, even though it was evident that it was strained almost to breaking point.

"Well, maybe she locked herself in her hotel room and forgot where she put the key then," Gene said, smirking with his usual patent sexism towards women, and blondes in particular.

"I beg your pardon?" Dr Smith asked, sounding absolutely convinced that DCI Hunt was the one who should be asking his pardon instead.

By now, the Doctor couldn't keep himself out of the discussion any longer, despite the danger of imploding black holes the size of Belgium. It wasn't just his antsy nature that gave him the urge to interrupt - Jo Grant was his ex-companion, after all, and he felt just as concerned for her as his younger self, not to mention insulted on her behalf. On top of that was the knowledge of how steadfastly stubborn the two men in front of him were. One of them was himself, so he should know. The Doctor pushed himself away from the desk he was casually leaning on and, with hands in his pockets, calmly approached the men.

"If the Master is here and Jo is in trouble, I would assume that there is some connection between the two," he said, meeting the other Doctor's eyes and trying to communicate a message of who he was through his gaze. "She does have the unfortunate habit of getting herself either hypnotized or otherwise in trouble with him."

The other Doctor seemed to have understood his message, since he just nodded, clearly not wanting to waste time in pointless discussions of why and how his future self was here, for which the Doctor was grateful. He was sure that there would be demands and questions later, but thankfully they were left for after the crisis was averted and Jo was safely back at the Doctor's side again.

Another loud snort came from Gene Hunt and the rest of the group of officers at the Doctor mentioning the Master's name again.

"'Ere it is with the Master thing again," Gene harrumphed. "Sammy-boy is gonna love this one, you're as cracked as Tyler is. Now we only need you to start talking about lying in a hospital in the future."

The Doctor looked at Gene, quirking an eyebrow. But before he could comment or start explaining whatever he meant, Dr Smith approached the police chief with stern expression that was taking no nonsense.

"Mr Hunt, with all due respect, old chap, the matter with the Master is not a joke!" Dr Smith was trying to make him see sense. The Doctor wasn't sure it would work, but kept quiet for the moment, leaving his counterpart to handle the situation. The younger incarnation of the Doctor was unfazed by Hunt's mocking look and accompanying smirk, and continued undisturbed. "As you know we UNIT and the chaps at Torchwood work for agencies that don't deal with normal crime. This Master is a dangerous criminal and if he is with my assistant we need to find her immediately."

Gene refused to comment on that last bit, still insisting on his own idea that both of these secret agency Doctors were more than a bit on the insane side. Instead, he went to his office and grabbed his coat. Pulling it on, he turned towards DC Skelton and shouted for him to power up the Cortina. After leaving instructions with WPC Cartwright to go and check on the interviews she had taken at the crime scene, he walked towards the door and the car, followed by both Doctors.

"Dr Smith, you 'ave a missing assistant, I have a missing DI," Gene said to Dr Smith. "So what are we gonna do about it? I have a place I want to check first. You got any brilliant ideas in that educated head of yours?"

The Doctors shared a bewildered look in the rear view mirror and shrugged. While Doctor Smith stayed quiet it seemed that the Torchwood Doctor couldn't. He turned towards Gene and asked, genuinely puzzled, "Can't we just check the CCTV on the place and see where they've gone?"

"Check the what now?" Gene asked. This one was proving more and more weird. "As if Tyler wasn't enough, now we have another loony!"

"Right, of course, 1973 - no CCTV yet," the Doctor muttered apologetically, rubbing the back of his head. Gene was starting to recognise this as his characteristic nervous reaction, which was quite irritating. The Doctor took a deep breath as if to brace himself and turned in his seat towards Gene.

"So, DCI Hunt...tell me about DI Tyler," the Doctor said, determinedly cheerful. "What's your opinion of him?" He knew that this might seem like an odd question, but he needed to know the truth. If the Master had used hypnosis to gain the CID's trust, Hunt would either be unsure or vague of his opinion of Sam Tyler, or - as with the case with the Master's Saxon alias – his persona would be seen as both charming and trustful.

"What I think of Sam Tyler?" Gene Hunt snorted.

"Yes, tell me DCI Hunt, what kind of person is this Sam?" the Doctor asked, grinning almost too eagerly.

"If ya want to know," Gene began, not letting his attention slip away from the road. No matter the accusations he got from Tyler or Cartwright, he was a much more careful driver than he appeared, so far he hadn't had a single accident. "DI Tyler is a pain in the ass, by-the-book, holier-than-thou, stuck up your ass, insubordinate twat. But since he came to this station, half of the police officers in this city are walking taller."

The Doctor looked sharply at Gene Hunt. What he said should have sounded like an insult, but coming from this man, and with the almost proud tone it was said in, it almost sounded like a compliment instead. Whatever he had expected to hear, it wasn't this. Because this didn't sound anything like the Master's normal hypnosis; it sounded like respect that had been hard worked on and hard earned.

* * *

><p><strong>Torchwood Three, Cardiff<strong>

Ianto worked around the Tourist Office, deliberately avoiding the Hub area for the bigger part of the day. He almost managed to avoid any contact with his colleagues and his boss, but most importantly he avoided constantly looking at the door that was leading to the vaults and the cell where they held Mrs Saxon. He tried to work as normal in the beginning of the day, but by the time he had finished making and handing out all the coffees, he couldn't stop throwing gazes in that particular direction and wondering how bad the consequences would be if he actually tried to help her.

He never really wanted to betray his teammates again. He had never forgotten the disaster he caused by hiding Lisa in the Hub. But Mrs Saxon had been right about one thing - they rarely ever remembered to simply thank him for the coffee. They just took Ianto Jones for granted around the Hub; Jack sometimes did that as well, no matter how things were supposed to have changed between them after that promised first date.

Sighing, he decided that he couldn't really hide in the Tourist Office for the rest of his life and at some point he would have to face his colleagues. Earlier was better than later, he figured, before he had worried himself into a nervous breakdown - he could always go and hide in the archives later. Adjusting his tie and brushing down his suit, he inhaled sharply and entered the through the cog door, to find a partly organised chaos inside the main area of the Hub.

"Ok kids, Mrs Saxon just confessed that she was using the sparks of the Rift to try and resurrect her husband," Jack was telling his team, coming up from the metal stairs from the vaults. "We still don't know what caused the sparks though, so Tosh, you'd better keep a careful eye on the manipulator and the readings. Gwen, call Andy to reassure him that they won't need to expect Roman soldiers in their cells again, and tell him that we have it under control. Owen, you go and try to talk with Mrs Saxon again, see if she knows what happened with the ring."

Jack turned around the place looking at the disarray the Torchwood Hub had turned into after the last Rift activity. Ianto was doing his best to put it in order as fast as he could. He suspected that Jack had been intentionally cutting his field work for a while and keeping him inside the Hub as the receptionist, slash archivist, to ensure everything was put back in order more efficiently. After all, that had been his job description in the beginning. Or maybe, now that the Captain was back and they weren't one man short, there was no place for Ianto in the proper team again.

"Ianto, work some coffee magic will you?" Jack's voice requesting coffee cut him off from his thoughts and shook him slightly. He didn't even know where all these dissatisfied thoughts had come from; he'd thought he was starting to feel quite comfortable in the team lately. Or was it just you were getting used to being ignored? The nagging voice of Lucy Saxon whispered in his head again.

He gave a crisp nod and a tight-lipped smile to his boss and lover and turned around to go to the coffee maker and make some much needed coffee for the team. If all else failed, he could always coax their gratitude with a bit of a coffee, not that he needed it in any case. Coming down here was a bad mistake and now he knew it. Every time a gaze from a team member just flew past him, every time one of the others were assigned an important job, leaving him to make the coffee or just file their papers, grated on his nerves. He knew it was unjustified; it wasn't as if they were particularly ignoring him that day, but something inside him just tightened. Especially when even Jack spared him no attention at all. He tried to argue with himself that Jack was too busy and had bigger problems than greeting Ianto, but it still didn't help to ease his mind. That bloody Saxon bitch! Whatever she had done to him, she had done it well - he was in turmoil!

Finishing the brewing of the coffee, he put the mugs on a tray and took a bit of a time for his hands to stop shaking, before he took the tray and carried it around the Hub to offer the coffees. He was absolutely going to hide in the archives later. Hopefully he would get himself buried in enough paper to take his mind off things. Giving Owen his coffee in the cell section was going to be hard. He almost thought of asking one of the others to go and do it for him, so he wouldn't need to face Lucy again, but then he decided that Jack might start to suspect something. After all, Jack was already suspicious of him after that talk inside the interrogation room. He would have to go down there later when no one was in the Hub if he wanted to talk to Lucy again.

Not bothering to knock, he entered Jack's office and silently placed the mug on the Captain's desk.

"Your coffee, sir. I'll just take Owen's coffee to him and then I'll be in the archives if you need me," Ianto said tightly and turned back towards the door. He was reaching for the door handle when Jack's voice stopped him.

"Ianto?"

"Sir?"

He stopped but didn't turn Jack's way. He couldn't see Jack's face, but he could hear the sharp frustrated intake of breath.

"Is there a problem Ianto?" Jack asked him.

"No, sir, should there be any?" he asked, answering the question with one of his own and not turning to look back as he exited the office.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I want first of all to thank Brownbug for her hard work on editing this long chapter, she is amazing. **

**Also thanks to Brownbug, Carole, Amelia Mills and Y. for reviewing the last chapter. Three of which are a new reviewers and I hope you will stick with this story. To the others that might have read it, please drop me even one line after you read a chapter to let me know if I'm going in the right direction here. **

**Now for the WARNING: There is the use of a bit of a bad language, is not much but I thought you should be warned.**

* * *

><p><strong>Manchester 1973<strong>

Gene accelerated his beloved Cortina along the road, trying to lose his fears and his urgency in the familiar adrenaline rush of speed. It mightn't be policing by the book, but it was the only way he knew how to deal with the concern he felt for the missing girl and DI Tyler. After humouring the Doctor by answering his silly and pointless questions, Gene let the voices of the other occupants of the car wash over him and gave his entire concentration to the road ahead. He flew past a red light and muttered a savage curse concerning the heritage of the person driving the car that almost got in his way, mentally urging them to hurry the hell up.

He became aware of the skinny Doctor next to him moving about in his seat and starting an argument with Dr Smith, a flood of incomprehensible words that flew right over Gene's head. If the blank looks on the faces of Skelton and Carling were anything to go by, even if he had been paying attention to the argument, the words they were firing at each other would still have flown over his head. He thought that he could vaguely hear some load of old rubbish about "spatial-whatsit" and "dimensional-thingygummy", none of which made any sense at all, so he decided to put his mind to something more useful and find the two missing people.

It frustrated him no end that he didn't even know where to begin with the search. It seemed that this whole situation was way out of his control - all these conspiracy-like murders, mysterious talk about aliens and covert organisations such as UNIT and Torchwood being involved in the mix. Gene Hunt had always prided himself on being a down-to-earth, logical and no-nonsense man, but all this made him wonder if there was some truth in what that Doctor bloke was telling him after all. When he had been originally briefed about the existence of both UNIT and Torchwood, Gene had been warned to expect all sorts of crazy things if he should somehow come to contact with anyone from either of these two organisations. Now it seemed that he had, not just one, but both at the same time. This was so ridiculously insane that, if it wasn't so scary and threatening to his sanity, it would almost be funny. His DI, an alien! That was enough to throw even someone like Gene Hunt off kilter. And didn't it just! He had to use every bit of his concentration and his entire will power not to start laughing at the absurdity of his thoughts.

He gripped the wheel of the Cortina in a white knuckled grip to anchor himself in the here and now and took a few deliberately slow and deep breaths. It was too distracting to think of the incredible possibility that all the times they had thought him mad, Sam Tyler may have been right. All these "could be" things, past, future, worlds beyond their own - it was just too much, too overwhelming. Gene was sure that this sort of knowledge was not meant for people like him, small normal people with a day-to-day job and a real life. He needed stability, and that was exactly why he couldn't allow this bizarre new world into his small, ordered one. It would consume him and swallow him whole before he even knew what was happening. Because once you were drawn into this other world, the world of monsters and crawling creatures and fantasies, what stability would you have left, where would you find it?

That was why Gene had to keep himself in the world he knew, and organise his currently tumultuous thoughts into nice shelves and files, like the ones in the police archives, by priority. Priority number one would be to remember to breathe. In and out, nice and calm, DCI Hunt, breath, nice and calm. Priority number two was obviously to find the missing people. But where did he start? He was sure that Jimmy wouldn't know a damn thing about their whereabouts. Nevertheless, he was determined to go there, not only because he had no other ideas, but also because he was overdue a visit to the drug dealer anyway. Pulling the car to a stop, he almost jumped out of the seat, not bothering to wait for the rest of the group or even to acknowledge their existence.

"What are we doing here then?" the Doctor asked Gene as they approached the front door of an old and miserable-looking house.

"We're going to get some answers about the drug-selling gangs 'round 'ere," Gene growled, not at all in the mood to answer any more questions from the skinny idiot next to him. He didn't have the time or the patience for any more spooky alien stories. If they wanted to help in the CID's investigation, that was fine, just as long as they didn't get in his way. "'Course, I don't know about you, but I'm sure Tyler's disappearance has something to do with our drug murders."

Gene lifted his foot to kick in the door, but before he could force the door open, there was suddenly an arm clad in velvet and half of a body blocking his way.

"There's no need for such barbaric measures old chap," Dr Smith told him, somehow managing to sound as disapproving as an old school teacher, despite being around the same age as Gene. "We could always knock on the door politely or ring the bell. Of course, if that doesn't work, I have other means of entering the house, which don't include us acting like unsophisticated brutes."

Frowning at the UNIT's Doctor, Gene shot an annoyed look towards the other one, only to find him leaning against the wall next to the doorframe, smirking smugly at him. Shaking his head to stop himself from making some vulgar gesture towards either one of the two Doctors, Gene silently and firmly pushed Dr Smith out of the way and kicked the door open with all his might, although he knew that he really didn't need to; after all, he had kicked this door down enough times before.

"What the fuck…" The surprised, angry voice of Jimmy came from one of the rooms and when Gene came into view, he stopped what he was about to say, already knowing the drill. "Mr Hunt, once again I 'ave to protest. You can't just barge in like this."

"Well, I'm 'ere, aren't I?" Gene said, grimly amused by Jimmy's futile attempt to complain once again. "An' since I'm 'ere already, there's no point in wastin' time in small talk is there?"

Jimmy just shook his head in resigned acceptance, not even bothering to leave his bed or send the girl huddled there away. "Is DI Tyler back with that paper work that he promised? Because I answered your questions the best I can, I swear, Mr Hunt."

The drug dealer was almost starting to shake by now and the girl was looking pale, apparently not daring to move from her spot next to him.

"No, DI Tyler isn't here," Gene said, looking and poking around the room, as if it was his own territory to explore. "And that's exactly why we're here. See, I brought Special Ops with me this time… " Gene said, with a meaningful gesture towards the two Doctors, who stood there, not flustered, but looking a bit embarrassed by the whole situation. Through the other door, Gene could hear smashing sounds as Skelton and Ray went through the possessions in the adjoining room.

"So, Jimbo, tell me who this woman is who's been giving out drugs for free?" Gene asked patiently, leaning against one of the wardrobes in a casual manner, as if he had all the time in the world to waste. "'Cos you see, I don't believe you don't know anything. There isn't a thing that 'appens around the underground in this city that you don't know about."

Jimmy was shaking his head in denial once again, this time genuinely looking scared. The DCI studied him closely, unable to decide if he was scared by Gene's probable reaction to his lack of cooperation, or by the possible harm the unknown party could do to him if he gave any information away. Desperately, the drug dealer tried for the hurt and innocent look, but missed by miles in Hunt's opinion. "I don't know nothing, Mr Hunt, I don't know nothing."

Out of the corner of his eye, Gene could see the velvet-dressed Doctor, who was cringing at Jimmy's misuse of English grammar. "You used a double negative, young man! Surely you could find better ways to use your time than this," Dr Smith said sternly to the drug dealer, as if he was merely a child misbehaving in the playground.

Gene reached towards Jimmy and hauled him out of bed. Not even allowing him time to get dressed, Gene shouted at Chris and Ray to follow and pushed the man out of the house in all his naked glory. "Let's see if some time in the cells in the station will improve your memory!"

A barrage of shouts assailed them as they stepped out the door, as mothers and grannies from up and down the street yelled at the naked Jimmy to have some dignity and cover up before going out in public, the stream of offended complaints following them all the way back to the Cortina.

* * *

><p><strong>Torchwood Three, Cardiff<strong>

Ianto waited for Jack to get to the point, but it seemed like the Captain was either just trying him out or intended to study his face and posture silently until Ianto gave in. He summoned all his strength to maintain his cool façade, even when he could feel himself crumbling inside, the reaction threatening to leave him trembling and breathless. He dug his fingernails hard into his palms, hard enough to leave angry red half-moon marks on his skin. He didn't care - anything that would keep him detached from what he was feeling and stop him from thinking.

When Jack finally spoke, his voice was so quiet that Ianto almost missed the words altogether. "No, Yan, I can't think why there would be any problem." He felt like crying or shouting or just going back and throwing himself into Jack's arms. All of which were bad ideas, bordering on pathetic in the case of his last thought, but he hated to see the hard, suspicious edge in the stare the Captain directed at him.

"It's Ianto, Sir, if you don't mind," he opted to answer evenly instead and, after a dismissive nod from Jack, he quietly left the room, closing the door carefully after himself. Looking briefly around the place and seeing that no-one was paying him any attention, Ianto leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. His heart was thudding loudly inside his ribcage and he fancied he could hear the sound rushing through his bloodstream and into his head, to pound into his ears with the force of disco music being played loudly over concert-sized speakers. He was wondering if his heart could actually burst through his chest and fall at his feet. He had a sudden irrational image of himself trying to pick his heart up from the floor and explaining to Jack that yes, they did have a problem. The thought caused him to open his eyes, snorting. This was getting ridiculous; it wasn't like he was really helping the woman to escape, after all. Almost panicking again, Ianto looked around the Hub, almost expecting the others to have heard the sound of his pounding heart and rushing blood. Of course, no one had even looked at the place where he was was slouching miserably against the wall.

"The benefits of being practically invisible," Ianto thought bitterly.

He straightened his tie and pulled on his jacket. It wasn't that he needed to look particularly immaculate just to bring Owen his coffee, but it helped him adjust his outward appearance to achieve the look of calm detachment he was trying to project. Deciding that the cup he had already prepared had gone cold and stale by now, he decided to brew another cup of coffee for the doctor. There was no point in making Owen's already foul mood even darker. Ianto knew very well - mostly from doing this so many times before - that staring at the machine and the mug impatiently would not make the coffee brew any faster. In actual fact, it only made the wait grate on his nerves even more. Still, he couldn't help staring at the machine as if this very cup of coffee had personally offended him somehow.

Gwen was nattering with Andy on the phone and Ianto caught himself unconsciously listening to what she was saying.

"I know, Andy, but can't you find someone who will listen?" Gwen's voice sounded impatient and Ianto wondered how long she had been trying to reason with the police. "Just tell them that there is no immediate threat, but to be prepared for anything. And don't tell them that the information comes from Torchwood. I don't want someone calling Jack and letting him know what I've told you… I know… No…" She looked towards the Captain's office and Ianto followed her gaze to the door, to see Jack bending over his desk, doing whatever he did when he happened to be in there. "He's in a bad mood, again. He wanted me to tell you that everything's under control and it should be, but Andy, just be prepared, yeah?"

"Going against our mighty Captain's instructions?" Ianto asked quietly behind her and could see that he'd startled her when she almost jumped and turned sharply around to face him. He gave her one of his thin, sarcastic half smiles. It still amused him at times how easy it was to spook them.

"God, Ianto, how do you managed to move so silently?" Gwen tried to cover her slip-up with a joke and by avoiding the question. It seemed that everyone was going against Jack's instructions today, no wonder he was in a foul mood. Despite Jack's off-handed treatment of him over the last few days, Ianto had already decided to forgive him – that was how their realtionship managed to survive, after all. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to drag this out and enjoy making the Captain sweat a bit. "Is that coffee for me? That'd be great - mine's probably gone cold while I was on the phone."

Ianto shook his head with the thin smile still on his lips. This was one of the smiles that he often dug up from his own private list of professional, non-committal smiles. "No, this one is for Owen, I'm afraid. I'm guessing our Dr Harper has been deprived of coffee long enough to be ready to bite my head off, so I'd better go and offer the price of peace to him." He could see Gwen pout at him for depriving her of her coffee, but his attention was quickly diverted when the door to Jack's office opened, none too gently.

"Gwen, if you've finished your chat on the phone, maybe now you can do some work," Jack almost barked, standing at the door. He leaned against the door frame with his hands stuffed into his pockets and shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. Ianto was sure that he was going to shout his orders from over there instead of joining the rest of them into the main area. Probably he thought that it give him more leverage of command to raise his voice from there, raining orders on them. Well, their Captain had always opted for the dramatic.

"Tosh, see what you can find out on your database about resurrection and any information you can get on Time Lords or anyone else storing DNA for future use." This order was a bit softer, making Ianto wonder if Jack had also listened in on Gwen's conversation with Andy. "Rule out any irrelevant information relating to the use of DNA to create offspring, we need information on a restoring a person."

"I take it Owen didn't succeed in finding anything useful about that ring then?" Tosh asked absent-mindedly, her fingers already in motion over the keyboard, typing and extracting information.

"No, he hasn't, but he's still down there," Jack answered her and, for the first time since he exited his office, the Captain's eyes stopped on Ianto. "And while we're on the topic of Owen, why don't you go and give him his drink? I thought you had work to do in the archives, so don't waste time."

Ianto could recognise a dismissal when he heard one, and this was one for sure. However, he lingered about for a moment, pretending to have some more work to finish around the coffee machine, just to see how it was going to go between Jack and Gwen. He turned his back to the office, no longer able to see Jack, but with a perfect view of Gwen and Tosh's work station.

"What is it that you want me to do so urgently, Jack?" Gwen asked, sounding irritated at the harshness of the Captain's words.

"Tosh told me earlier when she came to work that we've had calls from citizens seeing ghosts at Cardiff Castle," Jack said, with an amused smile, knowing perfectly well that even if there was something to find at the Castle, it definitely wasn't ghosts.

"Ghosts?" Gwen asked. Even from a distance, Ianto could see her expressive eyes going bigger and her pupils dilating with excitement and surprise.

"Don't think so," Tosh said, probably not even realising that she seemed to have deprived ex-PC Cooper of her early Christmas. "It's probably another of those time shifts, like with the hospital and Tommy, or something like the Ball House. I can't trace a clear signal, but it has something to do with the earlier sparking of the Rift."

"And that's why you and I, Gwen, are going on a private tour of Cardiff Castle," Jack told Gwen with a buoyant grin. Inexplicably, his mood seemed to have returned to amused. In fact, he looked just like kid ready to bounce off the walls if he didn't get to expel some energy soon, Ianto noted.

"I can give you some brochures from the tourist office, Sir," Ianto said, in his usual dry tone of voice. "But I'm afraid you'll have to change your field partner. Gwen has a scheduled meeting with her mother and Rhys to look at some churches for the wedding." He passed on the reminder with an impassive face, sure in his knowledge that Gwen had once again forgotten about something important in her life outside Torchwood. He should charge Rhys for being a messenger, he reflected wryly.

"I have?" Gwen asked, surprised and a bit embarrassed that she had allowed it to slip from her mind, not to mention the fact that someone else knew her schedule better than herself.

"Yes, at 3:45 pm today, at Mermaid Quay," Ianto informed her evenly, in his most professional secretary tone. Sometimes Gwen was really lucky that he was around and had such a good memory, or her relationship with Rhys could be in really big danger.

"Do you write everything in your diary?" Gwen asked him, a bit concerned for her privacy. But the concern was soon replaced by gratitude as she grabbed her purse and looked at Jack for permission to leave.

"Don't diss the diary, it did save us from Adam," Ianto tossed at her, before taking Owen's coffee mug and starting to go down towards the cells.

"How do you know all these things anyway, and how do you remember them?" Gwen persisted. Somehow, he was sure that she would keep on asking for a long time, until he answered to her satisfaction. She wasn't one to give up easily.

"As Ianto once so helpfully informed us, he knows everything," he could hear Jack snort behind his back. "Oh, and Ianto...?" At the sound of his name, he stopped in the middle of the steps, turning around slowly and he looking silently at Jack for instructions. "When you give Owen his coffee, tell him to come up here and join me on this ghost hunting trip. Gwen, you can go home and look at that church. We'll be able to manage without a problem - it's just some ghost sighting."

Ianto nodded, expecting something more. But when it didn't come he opted to try his luck and asked instead, "Do you want me to come as well, Sir?"

"No, someone has to mind the tourist office. The weather's good and I'm sure that there'll be a lot of tourists today," Jack answered back. It was a long time since Jack had been so dismissive of him. Usually he always allowed him out in the field, unless he really had something important to do in the Hub. After all, Jack had been the one to first introduce him to field duty. But not today, so it seemed. "Besides," Jack continued. "Someone has to feed and clean our pets."

"Of course," Ianto nodded and started again down the steps, the feeling of being ignored and underestimated swelling inside him again. "I'll order lunch and prepare the bathrooms in case the ghosts turn out to be messy. Do you want me to order pizza or Chinese, sir?"

They all just shrugged and he was almost amused at how synchronised they were when they did it. It just went to show that they really didn't care what they ate, as long as they didn't have to go and pick it up for themselves. Someday he would take sick leave for a day or two and see how the other members of Torchwood survived when having to fend on their own. He nodded again and went back to help Jack into his greatcoat, before finally managing to get out of the main area without someone issuing another request to him.

"Do you think he took lessons from Jeeves?" Toshiko asked, amused.

"Does that make Jack Wooster then?" Gwen responded with a snort.

* * *

><p>When he agreed to accompany Lucy Saxon to the cells, Owen did not expect it to be quite so frustrating. Well, agreed wasn't exactly accurate as a description, since it was more a case of being ordered by Jack Bloody Harkness to go down to the cells with the crazy woman to try and get something if not useful, then at least coherent out of her. And all this when he could have been poking some more inside the very uninteresting guts of a Vortex Worm, waiting for Toshiko to find anything resembling a emergency. Sometimes he had to remind himself why he had actually joined Torchwood, because he was damn sure it wasn't for the opportunity to feed Weevils or to question detainees. It was Gwen's job to lead this kind of interviews or at least it should have been, wasn't that why she joined Torchwood? He didn't have her patience or her empathy and that special, symapthetic way she had of talking to the people she was interviewing. Besides, he couldn't get anything useful out of this stupid woman anyway. All she had told him was what they already knew, that the ring belonged to her husband. She didn't know the whereabouts of the ring right now, or how it was connected with the Rift, only that it was. Or so she said. How much he could trust her ditzy blonde act, he wasn't too sure.<p>

He could hear her sniff and shuffle around in the cell, and couldn't blame her. For a woman who was obviously used to luxury and all the comforts of an immaculate home, the cell would be a nightmare. Owen himself found them cold, hard and dull, so it was not a surprise that a delicate creature like Lucy Saxon would have problems sleeping on the hard metal cot. He almost felt sorry for her and, for a few moments, he contemplated offering her his coat to at least cover her bare back or feet. But then he dismissed the idea just as quickly. He might toss some suggestion of a blanket at Gwen later though, let it not be said that Dr Harper didn't care for the well-being of the Torchwood prisoners, he was a doctor after all. Still, personally offering his coat was a bit too touchy-feely for someone who so hard tried to play the cynic. Sighing, he re-approached the glass wall of the cell and called to Lucy.

"Do you need a blanket, luv?" he asked, trying to sound as bored as he could, without showing any hint of actual care in his voice. "What were you thinkin', going out in that dress? 'S not like your husband's here to warm your bed, you'll catch your death like this."

He wasn't sure what he was expecting from her as a reaction. Not moving at all, maybe not even giving any indication that she had heard him. Hell, maybe some rage directed at him for touching on the subject of her husband and being unable to bring him back the way she had hoped. He would have expected any one of those, even breaking down and sobbing. What he didn't expect of her was the cold collected way she stood slowly from the cot and, moving with the grace and sensuality of a Greek love goddess, to approach the glass. Pale blue eyes met his and Lucy placed a hand against the glass, leaning her forehead towards him a way that would have touched his, if it wasn't for the glass that separated them.

"You're right, I'm cold," she said softly and shivered, as if just now realising how low the temperature around her had become. "I'm cold and lonely and scared." Her voice held the low sad note of someone weak and delicate at the mercy of their executioner, or their saviour. The only thing that would distinguish her executioner from her saviour was the way they would treat her before bringing her to her inevitable fate, Owen decided. Exactly when he had become that philosophical, he wasn't sure, but he knew that it was the truth, or rather it was what she wanted him to see as the truth. "I won't trouble you to go around looking for blankets. After all, the other residents of the cells don't have that luxury, so why should I? But you can give me something warm to drink. Or you can come and warm me up with your own body. You're right, my husband is not here now, but I'm sure you can do the job. Maybe you can take me home?"

Her last words pulled him out from the almost trance-like state he had fallen into. Was it really possible that she could draw him to her like this? What was so special and alluring in that voice and body of hers? Owen wasn't sure, but he was pretty sure that it wasn't natural. He didn't know much about Mrs Saxon, but still knew enough to know that: one, she wasn't all that smart; two, she was pretty, but dry and dull; and three, she was almost as crazy as her late husband. Was it possible that she had played them all for fools, deceiving them into believing all these things about her, when really she was some sort of secret genius? It wasn't as if it would be the first time that someone had conned him that way. God knew, he had never suspected what was hidden under that cold, detached and almost shy façade that Ianto had shown them, while all the time he had been hiding a Cyberman in the very depths of their own base. That boy scared Owen sometimes. He had come to realise that Ianto approached most of the things happening around him with determined calm, until something pushed his buttons too hard. What scared Owen was that, with Ianto, you never would never know you had pushed the final button, until the Tea-boy flipped and started shooting people. Still, somehow Owen doubted that this was the case with Lucy Saxon. And, on the topic of Ianto, where was the Tea-boy with his coffee?

"Oh no, love," Owen said, almost snarling. "You're not going to tempt me like this. You see, if I want a shag, I don't need to risk my job for it, I just need to go to a bar. The women there are cheaper and, I can assure you, most likely better shags than you."

Lucy was going to say something else to him, but at that moment the young Torchwood archivist finally had the decency to show up and bring Owen his coffee.

"Jack wants you to go with him to a ghost sighting at Cardiff Castle," Ianto told him cheerfully, knowing how much this would annoy the doctor. He passed over a mug of coffee which, although most likely still warm, was not steaming any longer.

"Great, now we are the Scooby Doo squad," Owen grumbled, barely reining in his temper and only just refraining from shoving a middle finger at the CCTV camera that he was sure Jack was looking at. As usual, Ianto did not comment, only quirked an eyebrow at him, smirking. "What? I'm entitled to my right to complain."

* * *

><p>Ianto watched Owen turn on his heel, starting up the corridor to the steps that led out of the vaults and towards the main Hub area. The doctor's steps were still echoing back to him when he turned towards the woman in the cell. He tried for a professional and cold attitude. After all, he had manage to keep it that way the first time they interacted. But this time his nerves were on the edge of their limits and he could feel the façade that he had built starting to slowly crumble.<p>

"Did you try to tempt Dr Harper as well, Mrs Saxon?" He was proud of how even his voice sounded, especially when his heart was even louder in his ears than the words that came out of his mouth.

"Yes. I'm not going to hide that I tried," she answered him sweetly. "I thought his weak spot was sex and that I could play on that. Obviously, I was mistaken. It's a pity but I can live with it."

Ianto wanted to snarl at her, letting her know exactly what he thought of her and how he would like to tear her apart for all the trouble she was causing to the team. Not least because of the way Jack was now looking at him. As if, after that first confrontation with Lucy Saxon, his- boss? Lover? Partner?- whatever he would call him, was waiting for the moment Ianto would either betray them or snap. He was determined to show them that he would not do either, so he leaned against the opposite wall, carefully portraying the very picture of calm, stuffed his hands in his pockets and crossed his legs at the ankles.

"So what, now you're back to trying it on me?" Ianto asked her bitterly. "You're not going to have any more success than you had the last time."

Lucy placed her hand palm flat against the glass surface and spread her fingers around some of the holes in the glass, almost as if reaching out to him.

"Oh, but I did have some success last time, even if you don't want to admit it," she said, smiling a wistful smile that was not so much directed at him as it was some kind of a private moment for herself and someone else, almost intimate in nature. "You know, the way you are standing there…it reminds me of my husband. He liked to stand like that and study the people in front of him, looking perfectly immaculate."

Ianto snorted at her after that. Was she really comparing him to Harold Saxon?

"I've watched you, Ianto Jones," she continued, as if she had never heard his snort. Perhaps she was so absorbed in her own world that she hadn't. "I've watched you, and you're loyal, but sometimes you wish to be treated as human being as opposed to a coffee machine."

Ianto rolled his eyes and pushed off the wall, approaching the glass, a thin-lipped, skin-deep smile on his face. This was getting old and she should find something else to taunt him with, Ianto thought. Maybe he was lucky that she didn't, because this way was easier for him to start ignoring her and not give in to the temptations that she offered him. She was right about one thing, he was loyal and he planned on staying that way, not only towards Jack, but also towards the whole team, even Owen. They might be a strange dysfunctional group of people who carried a lot of baggage and demons, but somehow they managed to make it work. He loved every one of them in their own way. If Lucy had come maybe a few months earlier, she would have succeeded in her mind games with him, but now he was freed from his burden of hiding Lisa and was embracing his new life. Of course, the life of Ianto Jones could never be that simple, and the moment he thought about that, Lucy found something new to taunt him with. Something that might just break him and his resolve.

"And what about Jack then?" she asked softly, almost sounding as if she pitied him for how delusional he was. "Do you think he would ever shagged you if Gwen was available?"

Her words were followed by a charged silence, in which she was probably expecting some verbal or other reaction from him, but Ianto managed to keep his outward posture as calm and detached as ever. His poker face never lost the expressionless mask, while inside his head, his soul and mind were locked in a merciless, spiteful battle.

"Of course, you know that the dashing Captain loves the new girl, don't you?" she kept going, after seeing that he was not going to comment. "You have seen the way he looks at her, haven't you? Has he ever looked at you that way? Has he ever tried to shield and protect you from the horrors of this life to preserve your normal personal life? Tell me, Ianto Jones, has he?"

He didn't want to admit it, but her words hit home, feeling like a physical blow to his gut. He could recall all the moments when Jack had done things for Gwen that he had never done for Ianto, even though he was the one in Jack's bed. Things like sharing with Gwen that he was immortal, talking to her after hours, asking her for her opinion. Even waking up for her after Abbadon - he hadn't woken up when Ianto had pleaded with him. Still, he wasn't ready to face this. He knew that Jack didn't love him. Hell, he didn't expect to fall in love with Jack either, they were just dabbling, no strings attached. No matter how much he reasoned, however, it still hurt like hell. Finally, his stern posture crumbled like a sand castle under the force of the waves, and he slammed his palms into the glass.

"Shut up! You know nothing about me and Jack!" he shouted, with his face twisted in an angry almost feral snarl, promising pain if only he could reach her and have it his way.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I want to thank my beta Brownbug for her work. I asked her to tell me if the chapter was too bad and have to re-write it, because I'm not quite happy with it, but she didn't say anything so I assume is ok for posting , although not perfect. Also thanks to the people who reviewed my last chapter: Brownbug, Y.K. Willston, Torchwood Cardiff and LyricsArePoetry. Carly and Katie, I'm so happy to have you back girls. **

**A/N 2: This chapter is going to be upper T. The rating is up because Owen has a potty mouth, well Jack too. Yeah, so you are warned for bad language.**

* * *

><p><strong>Manchester, 1973<strong>

Jo badly wanted to open her eyes, but she knew that it was no use. She had already tried to do it and had been unable to see anything but darkness. Since it didn't make much difference, she decided that it was easier to just keep them closed and try not to think of what was going to happen to her. That way, if anyone came around, maybe she could fool them into thinking that she was still out cold and they would leave her alone. The last thing that she remembered was seeing DI Tyler hit the floor, limp and boneless, then following him seconds later. She guessed that, whoever her captors were, they must have moved her, because the place she was in now seemed much colder. She wasn't sure if the numbness of her limbs was due to the cold, or from being restricted in one position. In fact, now that she thought about it, she didn't believe she was tied up at all. An almost successful try to move her fingers and toes soon let her know that her conclusion was correct. She wasn't tied up, but she was so cold and frozen, she could hardly move at all. How long had she been lying there? Even more importantly, how long could the human body last when continuously exposed to below zero temperatures?

Jo wished she hadn't ignored her earlier instincts and had actually asked some of the other officers to follow them. Then again, if another officer had come with them, he would mostly likely be stuck in this situation too. She wondered what fate had befallen DI Tyler. Maybe he was stuck in here with her somewhere. She didn't know if this possibility gave her hope, or made her more afraid that he could be freezing too. Whoever these people were, they were certainly playing hardball – it couldn't have been easy to find such a cold place to imprison her, not in Manchester. The only thing she could think of was that it must be some kind of industrial freezer. Unfortunately, the more lucid her brain became, the more she could feel the cold numbness creeping up her body and making her teeth chatter. Hugging her arms around herself to preserve the little warmth that her thin coat offered, she decided to try and move around the place. Even if she didn't find anything she could use to escape, she knew that at least she should keep moving, to keep the blood circulating in her veins, delaying the onset of hypothermia as long as she could. Maybe the Doctor would save her; it wouldn't be the first time he had shown up at the last moment to save her from certain death. She just wondered who wanted her death this time and why.

* * *

><p>The Cortina screeched to an abrupt halt in front of the police station in an impressive action movie style. Gene Hunt threw his fag through the open window before dramatically jumping out of the car to complete the effect. Dr Smith rolled his eyes at the Wild West-like antics of the Manchester sheriff. The back door of the car opened and DS Carling escorted out a stark naked figure, who seemed to be completely undisturbed by his total lack of clothing. In fact, the majority of his very vocal protests actually consisted of bitter complaints about the injustice of being hauled out of bed in the middle of the greatest blow-job he had received for years. Turning deaf ears to his prattle, the group of police officers accompanied the man into the CID building.<p>

The police officers might have appeared unconcerned, but Dr Smith looked appalled at the sight of the naked man. The human youth of this generation certainly did make him worry about the future of the Earth. As if by contrast, the Torchwood Doctor merely looked amused, as if he was used to seeing young people being marched nude around the streets. It made Dr Smith wonder if perhaps his future incarnation had come across a certain Torchwood captain based in Cardiff. Dr Smith hadn't had the opportunity to meet this enigmatic captain yet, but a lot of people at UNIT were talking about him and his antics. However, as curious as this possibility might be, such irrelevant facts would have to wait until later. Right now, he needed to see how the latest suspect that Gene Hunt had dug up from the mud could help him to find his assistant, Jo Grant.

The two Doctors followed the DCI into the building and through the stinky offices and corridors into the probably the most unusual interrogation room he had ever seen - not that he had seen many apart from the one at the UNIT HQ, and he didn't usually attend the interrogations. That was Alistair's job, but still the Doctor was sure the Brigadier's rooms weren't that dark and musty. It stank vilely of cigarette smoke.

"Dear me," the Doctor exclaimed in disgust, gaining not only the attention of the police officers, but also of his future counterpart. "This is absolutely unacceptable! And I though the military was bad!"

The man that was about to be interrogated, however, looked absolutely unbothered by his surroundings, which made the Doctor think that he must be familiar with the situation and procedures. It made him briefly wonder how much normal human danger and violence the police battle had to battle every day, while people like him and the Brigadier tried to keep them safe from all things above. He was so lost in his thoughts that he had almost forgotten what he had said, until the gruff voice of Gene Hunt answered him with a short, "It's soundproof here," which was followed by a shrug.

Everyone drew a chair up to the table in the centre of the room, with the exception of the pinstriped Doctor, who leaned on one of the shelves with his hands stuffed inside his pockets. Gene made sure he sat right in front of Jimmy.

"So, Jimbo," he started pleasantly. "Tell me where this bird is who gives out drugs for free, because let me tell ya, pal, there is a catch."

Of course there was, there was always a catch, no one gave anything for free, the Doctor thought, and especially not when the Master was involved with it. Let alone someone who would provide free drugs from the future. The Doctor couldn't help wondering if some other Time Lord could be in on this together with the Master. But to what gain? He found himself missing Jo Grant badly – she always asked too many questions, but it was almost a given that one of the questions she asked constantly would be the right question. Still, it was no use moping around about something that couldn't be helped, it wasn't helping him to find Miss Grant. He redirected his attention back to the interrogation, just in time to hear DCI Hunt bang his fist on the table.

"Like hell you don't know anythin'," Gene spat at the man across from him. "Lemme tell you something, these two men here are even more interested in finding the two missing people than I am, and they're from the sort of organisations whose motto is 'Shoot first, ask questions later.'" Gene smirked at the apparent fear on Jimmy's face. "Should I give you to 'em, then?"

"Mr Hunt…" the drug dealer started to protest worriedly, but was interrupted by the skinny Doctor, who pushed himself from the wall, looking offended on behalf of an organisation he didn't even work for.

"Now there is no need to confuse the guy," the Doctor said in protest. "Our motto is 'If it's alien, it's ours.' It's UNIT's motto that's 'Shoot first, ask questions later.'"

Dr Smith wanted to protest and ask what his counterpart was on about, when he realised that in the absence of DI Tyler, his future incarnation was playing the part of the good cop in a game of bad cop/good cop with Gene Hunt. He contemplated the idea of including himself in the interrogation, but decided that he was better off as a silent observer, it gave him more time to think through all the information they received.

"So let's try this again," Gene Hunt said, sitting back in his chair and lighting another cigarette, offering one to Jimmy who accepted it with trembling hands. "Tell me who the skirt was who gave you the drugs. And spare me all the 'I didn't see her, it was a friend of my cousin's wife's mate'."

Jimmy took a shaky drag of his cigarette and inhaled a shuddering breath before he tried to answer Gene. But his first try was unsuccessful as his lips moved in silence, while his constricted throat failed to produce the needed sound. He licked his lips and tried again.

"Take your time," the future Doctor said amicably, nodding understanding at the dealer. "You just try to remember anything that might be important."

Dr Smith could see the corners of Hunt's mouth tighten in irritation at his counterpart's words and was sure that the chief inspector was soon going to lose his patience. It wasn't very surprising really - his future self was getting too much into the role of playing the good cop and was giving Jimmy time that they did not have to waste. He wasn't overly familiar with street crime, but he was sure that if they gave the bloke time to think, he was going to stall as much as he could, until of course he ended up being mauled by Gene Hunt. Dr Smith didn't want this to happen. He was strongly against violence and always thought that the police force should use brains rather than brawn, so he decided that it might be due time that he interfered.

"As you mentioned earlier, old chap," he began, addressing his tenth incarnation, "The Master is around, and if we want to find DI Tyler and Miss Grant alive and well we must make haste. There's no time for playing games." He turned his attention back towards the criminal, thereby missing the look his other self gave him. "So if you don't mind, young man, answer the good inspector's question."

Jimmy extinguished his fag into the full-to-the-brim ashtray and licked his lips to moisten them again, before answering nervously, "I ain't sure who the skirt was, she never give us a name." His voice was so nervous that it made the Doctor realise that whoever that woman was, she was no ordinary dealer – the man was clearly terrified by her. "She would only come once a day and supply some of us with free stock. She never asked us for money, only wanted us to make sure that we spread the drug, mostly between women and girls. It's strange now, when I think of it, Mr Hunt."

A soft, non-committal "Hmm…" was the Doctor's only answer. He nodded his head, encouraging Jimmy to continue. The man was becoming more and more distressed as time went on, but the promise of pain in Gene's expression persuaded him to continue talking much more than the encouragement of the silver hired man, or the friendly chat of the skinny one.

"She looked peculiar, like someone from a cheap futuristic movie cast," Jimmy told them. "I don't know anything about her, I'm telling you the truth, the only thing I know is that she always had that smell that tingled of metal."

The two Doctors looked at each other, sharing something that the rest of the occupants of the room were sure that they were missing, some inner joke or something of the sort. But Dr Smith wasn't in the mood to start to explain everything to the officers. He knew that the smell was important. DI Tyler had told him that he hadn't smelt anything, but there was something off with the man. The Doctor still couldn't put his finger on it, but he was sure that he would soon find out. What worried him the most was that he had sent Jo after the man alone, despite knowing that something wasn't right, not only with the situation, but with the DI as well. Still, there would be time for self-blame later when they found her, now he needed to think.

"I've smelled this before," the Doctor said, more to himself and the pinstriped Doctor than to Gene or the rest of the police officers present. "I talked about it with DI Tyler just moments before he disappeared. But what it is?"

The Doctor left his chair and started to pace the room, tapping a pen against his chin and muttering to himself. The only audible thing was the occasional "Hmmm…"

"Just bloody sit, will ya?" Gene finally snapped at him. The Doctor heard his voice, but it took him a few moments to actually register that it was directed at him. Turning to look at the DCI, he gave him a confused look. "Yer making me dizzy," Gene complained.

"I'm thinking," the Doctor informed him, irritated to be so pointlessly interrupted. If he was going to be the only one that was using his brain and trying to think the situation through, they could at least be considerate enough to let him work. "At least I'm trying to do some thinking, instead of bullying the people who might have some answers. I thought military and intelligence were contradictory terms, but your team, DCI Hunt, has proven to me that police and intelligence are as well! And that is one organisation that we should be able to expect intelligence from."

The Doctor saw the moment Gene Hunt's fist flew through the air towards his face. With a speed that belied his age and professor-like vision, he ducked the punch and held Gene's hand behind his back.

"Now, Mr Hunt, let's lock this criminal in a cell and go to save your DI," the Doctor said calmly and saw the surprise flash through Gene's eyes. "Yes, I did work it out and more or less know where he is. If you had asked me this instead of complaining about my pacing, or UNIT getting over your case, we could already be on our way." The Doctor smiled in a superior fashion and released Hunt. Gene immediately sprang into action, ordering the dealer locked away and shouting for the rest of them to put their lazy asses in gear.

"So, Dr Holmes, where are we going to find my damsel in distress?" Gene asked him impatiently, already leading the way outside to the parked car, not even turning to check if the two Doctors were following.

"Back to the river bank and follow the smell of burned metal, the same way your DI did," the Doctor said, hurrying to keep up with Gene Hunt. "I cannot believe I missed this from the beginning."

* * *

><p><strong>Torchwood, Cardiff<strong>

The drive to Cardiff Castle was dull and uneventful. The only distraction for Jack was Owen's constant moaning and complaining about having to go on a pointless wild goose chase, when Torchwood had more suitable employees for that job. He was the doctor after all and his job was to patch 'em up and look at alien guts. Gwen or Ianto would have been much better out here. After Owen repeated this argument a few times, Jack merely tuned him out and stopped paying attention to what he was saying, without bothering to answer. In all honesty, it didn't seem to bother Owen, who just kept on complaining regardless.

The Captain's thoughts drifted back towards Ianto and his strange coldness towards him. He knew something was going on with that Saxon woman. No, actually, he was sure that Lucy was trying some of her husband's tricks on his archivist, but she wasn't the Master, so Jack wasn't too worried. Apart from her being just a weak human, he knew that when Ianto was loyal he was loyal to a fault, the incident with Lisa had shown them this. Right now, Ianto was loyal to Torchwood and Captain Jack Harkness. On the other hand, that was exactly the problem, the incident with Lisa. Ianto had shown them that he was capable of a level of deceit none of them had expected. Moreover, he could con Jack.

"Call yourself a con-man, Captain Harkness," Jack snorted to himself bitterly. He still wasn't sure how much of the real Ianto was showing now. He had looked a bit more relaxed after coming back from the suspension after the Lisa affair, but Jack couldn't help wondering if even Ianto knew who the real Ianto was any more. After keeping up his façade for so long, perhaps that was all he was now. In short, Ianto Jones was a dangerous man, who was almost impossible to read, and Jack vowed to himself to keep a careful eye on him. Not that this should prove too difficult, since he could hardly keep his eyes, or hands for that matter, away from the boy.

"Oi, Harkness," Owen's sharp shout brought him back to the present and he twisted the wheel sharply to avoid hitting a wall.

"What?" he snapped at Owen, even though he knew he was in the wrong. Owen being Owen, he was quick to point this out, starting a new rant this time on the Captain's driving and the fact that, apart from Jack, everyone else in the team was mortal and they would like to stay alive for a little longer, thank you very much. He supposed he had to agree with Owen - on this particular occasion, his driving was hardly the best, but he was not going to admit it out loud. Besides, did any of them know how hard it was to learn to drive a combustion engine when you were used to temporal-drive one?

"You just missed the entryway for the Cardiff Castle, mate," Owen growled, irritated. "Stop thinking with your dick, before something goes to shit in this supposedly routine operation!"

Jack hit the brakes hard, sending them both flying into the dashboard, which evoked a new string of curses from the Torchwood doctor. Jack turned in his seat towards Owen, intending to protest that he was not thinking with his dick, but rather about relevant problems and the questionable loyalty of his team. But the words stuck in his throat. In the end, he actually had missed the turn because he was thinking of what he was going to do with Ianto when the work day was over, providing Ianto was in a better mood, of course.

"If you want to know, I was actually thinking about Mrs Saxon and the mind games she's trying to play around you lot," he said as a way of defence. Then he unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the SUV, not bothering to give any more explanations or to wait for Owen's answer.

It didn't take them long after that to do a couple of circuits of the premises and determine that nothing remotely interesting was happening, which served as a fuel for another Owen patented rant, about field trips that wasted their time. Only when Jack was turning back towards the SUV did he spot something out of the corner of his eye. It did look like a ghost, he supposed, if you had never worked for Torchwood. But Jack knew better. Instantly, both his and Owen's PDAs started to beep frantically.

"That doesn't sound like something that a ghost would trigger," Owen commented unnecessarily.

"Because it isn't," Jack informed him absent-mindedly. His attention was focused on the other side of the blue-hued mist, where a blonde young woman was staring at him in shock. He was sure that his expression wasn't any more dignified than the one on the girl's face, but he very pointedly didn't think about that right at that moment.

"Then who's thst girl?" Owen pointed at the blue shimmer that was gradually becoming more and more hazy, until the apparition of the girl was lost in the mist of Cardiff once again.

"That girl was Rose Tyler," Jack almost whispered, as if talking too loud would break some kind of a holy spell. "I don't know what's going on, but I can assure you that girl is very much alive and isn't a ghost at all. The best guess I have without Tosh's scans on the residual power is that we just had a peak at an alternate universe or time line."

He could see Owen's perplexed glare at him and could almost hear the questions about alternate realities spilling out of the doctor's mouth. He was almost infinitely grateful that it wasn't Gwen with him at that moment. Sure, he hired Gwen because she had her uses, but the girl was like a dog with a bone in moments like this – and the sudden apparition of Rose Tyler would have been a particularly tasty bone for her Doberman-like nature.

"Didn't whatever happened at Canary Wharf close the gaps between the parallel universes?" Owen's question surprised him, because it bypassed all the explanations he had expected he would have to give, and went straight to the point.

Smiling approvingly at his doctor for his unexpected display of knowledge, Jack shook his head and started to lead their way back to the SUV.

"Yes, they should have been, but obviously something has weakened them again," he tried to explain the best he could without having the full results from the scans yet. "That or it wasn't really an alternate reality, maybe just an alternate time line."

"What's the difference anyway?" Owen asked, opening the driver's door and tossing the PDA carelessly on the back seat. Jack looked at him with a quirked eyebrow, but Owen just shrugged boldly. "What? You're not driving, I fancy staying alive for at least a couple of more days."

Jack looked at him challengingly, but then shook his head, deciding that they had more important matters to deal with than arguing with Owen about who was going to drive back to the Hub. He opened the passenger seat and climbed in the SUV without further protest.

"The difference between an alternate time line and an alternate universe is in the fact that the alternate time line doesn't require the creation of a whole new parallel world," Jack started explaining, while Owen was busy accelerating the car. "Parallel worlds are born from different decisions that are made on a grand scale, like a war lost by a country that in another reality had won it. A parallel time line is individual or on a smaller scale. It doesn't necessarily spring another world. In a way, it's worse, because it actually changes the one we live in. Some wrong turn, or wrong decision that should have originally gone in a different way, and everything has changed while we are none the wiser."

"But we noticed it just now," Owen said, confused.

"Because it could be a portal to a parallel world," Jack reminded him. "Or the time lines might be overlapping instead of changing, which could be really bad. We need the Doctor!"

Jack finished what he was saying and started to fiddle with his PDA, no longer paying any attention to the medic. Yet again, Jack was happy to have Owen with him on this trip instead of Gwen, since the doctor at least knew when to stop asking questions to which Jack didn't have full answers yet and let him concentrate on working.

"Tosh, I'm sending you the readings, see what you can make of them until we get back."

Getting confirmation from the Japanese tech, Jack transferred the readings from his PDA to her, in the hope that the better tech and the connection to main frame at the Hub would be able to give them some answers. He knew better than to hope that they didn't have the additional problem of breaking or overlapping time lines, but he really didn't need this. Not with Mrs Saxon in their cells, and the probable rebirth of the Master. He knew better than to hope, but still he did.

* * *

><p>Ianto turned around and tried to block out the rest of what Lucy had to say. Of course she knew nothing about him and Jack, everything she was saying was just to taunt him. That her words were probably common - if not public – knowledge, he was pointedly not going to think about. He really was not thinking about it while he was making his way towards the stairs which led out of the cell level. Before he reached them, however, Tosh almost flew through the door and into his arms.<p>

"What did you mean when you said that your diary saved us from Adam?" Tosh asked him, looking very confused. Ianto did not blame her for that, he was confused too, since he had no idea who this Adam was. "Who's Adam? "

Ianto steadied her and looked directly into her eyes, trying to remember who this person Adam was and what he had to do with the situation. There were a few flickers of images and memories, but nothing solid. Still, it sounded a bit familiar. He remembered Jack asking him the same question a few days ago, and he had no better answer back then than he had now for Tosh. He remembered that Jack had asked him the question after they lost two days of memories, maybe it was connected, and they were not meant to remember. He didn't know why or how he knew this, but Ianto was sure that it was for the best if this Adam stayed forgotten. He just hoped that Gwen and Jack had more pressing matters to think about and had overlooked his comment without paying it any attention.

"I don't know," Ianto muttered and tried to push by Tosh and leave the place, but a soft knock on the glass wall from Mrs Saxon's cell brought their attention back to her.

"I know who he is," Lucy said sweetly, smiling at them. "He lives in the Vortex, I can hear him now, I think both of you can too…"

Ianto looked at the blonde woman with shocked surprise. So that was how she knew so much about them. But it still didn't answer the question of how the creature was managing to reach back to the world and why it hadn't come fully back. Was it somehow scared by what was to come?

"Just another bloody Wednesday at the Torchwood office," Ianto sighed, before collecting himself and addressing her.

"And how do you know all this, Mrs Saxon?" he asked coldly. "Because so far, everything you've said would've sounded quite crazy if we didn't deal with this stuff for breakfast. All your school records say that you got good marks, but are not bright. And I'm sure somehow that you don't have paranormal abilities. So, tell me, Mrs Saxon, how are you so perceptive all of a sudden?"

He was confident that the stern questioning would finally break through to her, but Lucy just smiled at him enigmatically and hooked her perfectly manicured finger through one of the holes into the glass.

"Well, work it out, Ianto Jones," she said, turning around and snuggling under the blanket that Tosh had brought her, suddenly looking very tired, fragile and small.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I want to apologise for the late update but I have some health issues and didn't have much time to write, or inspiration. I'll try to update more often but later but I don't promise. **

**Also I want to thank my beta Brownbug for sacrificing from her time to make that story work with her incredible work. Seriously she edited this chapter so fast I'm starting to suspect that she has super-powers. :D**

**And last but not least, I want to thank to my new reviewers…Singing Like Blue, darkangel1992, Darkflame5,** **Bradley McCloud,** **3LW00D,** **HannahMcBills and all the rest who reviewed the last chapter. I'm glad that you enjoyed it, and hope to hear from my new reviewers again.**

* * *

><p><strong>Manchester, 1973<strong>

The dark in his mind was almost a constant at the moment, with only an occasional spell of clarity and light going through. He felt like something was drilling right through his brain, making him almost welcome the periods of pure darkness and lack of any senses. He had the vague idea that the chemical the Rani had injected him with would have killed any normal human, considering the amount of it that had been plunged into his veins. However, for the physiology of a pure Time Lord it would have been a mere inconvenience, causing nothing more than an irritating headache. Taking all of that into account, it seemed his theory of being half human and half Time Lord had been correct.

Nevertheless, the confirmation of his theory didn't do anything to help him find a way out of the situation. All those times the Doctor had prattled on and on about saving him and here he was, now actually needing to be saved, and the Doctor was nowhere in sight. Some help he was. While these bitter thoughts were circling around in his head, he realised with some relief that the ability to think at all meant that his mind was regaining at least some of its lucidity

He had always sneered at the humans who described the experience of returning to awareness after unconsciousness as a sensation of falling, or of their souls being pulled out of their bodies, but he could almost feel it at that moment. He suddenly wondered if he would fall through a hole like Alice down the rabbit hole, tumbling right into Wonderland. If he could, he would have laughed at that moment. Alice! Oh gods, he'd obviously been spending too much time with Gene Hunt - he was starting to make up stupid nicknames just like the DCI. He wondered if next time he woke up Gene would start calling him Alice instead of Dorothy. It seemed that he knew now where he was, so surely Alice was more appropriate than Dorothy.

He was aware enough to understand how irrational all these thoughts were, but he couldn't care less about rationality. The place he was at the moment lacked any rationality at all. It also lacked the Mad Hatter, of course, but it did have the insane Time Lord. He wasn't sure if he could be Alice and the Hatter at the same time, but as logic had totally escaped him he didn't bother putting much thought into it. He tried to focus on something else, because that particular train of thought wasn't overly productive, if not downright insane. He really needed to concentrate because the situation had to be really bad if something sounded more insane than someone having his own private percussion inside their head.

A few seconds ago, he could have sworn that he wasn't in any way connected to his body and senses. But all at once he heard a door being viciously kicked down and the pounding of half a dozen pairs of feet running around the building. Weirdly, he thought he heard Gene Hunt's voice shouting profanities. In his current state he wasn't sure if he was returning to consciousness, or if the sounds were marking the beginning of some new hallucination. Not that it mattered much really, at least it was something to keep him company and take his mind away from trying to figure out who exactly he was. He struggled to open his eyes. To his astonishment, the round cheerful face of his DCI swam in front of his clouded vision. It seemed Gene Hunt was determined to haunt him, even during his dying hallucinations.

His blissful assumption that it was a hallucination was blown into dust when some of the fog began to clear from his brain. It didn't clear quite enough for him to be able to have uninterrupted, coherent thought or to fully comprehend what was going on around him. But the trouble was, despite not feeling fully in the here and now, he could still see and hear bloody Hunt. There were words spoken and he was sure that he should understand them – he knew the meaning of each individual word and sound, but he just couldn't seem to connect them enough to follow the context of what was being said. The drug that the Rani had administered to him must have really scrambled his mind...not that he was all that innocent in that area, but this was the first time he really understood the saying about 'stoned outta your brain.'

* * *

><p>The 'A' Division spilled out of the car even before the vehicle's engine had died. The police officers arranged themselves evenly around the boat house, covering every possible way of escape, in caser anyone decided to try to run. The UNIT Doctor and the Guv were sure that whoever was in there would be long gone, knowing that the police would not be too far away. However there was no harm in being prepared for any possible situation. Or at least that's what the Boss had always told them and tried to make Gene understand. It seemed that Gene had finally taken his DI's advice on board. They only hoped that Sam Tyler was still alive in there for them to find, not just a body waiting for the squad to retrieve.<p>

The two Doctors followed Gene, Ray and Chris inside the house. It looked totally different on the inside. The creaky old façade belied the hidden high-tech and visibly clean and new-looking interior. The Manchester cops looked around, muttering a few almost inaudible curses. Gene's first thought was that it looked like a set for a sci-fi movie and not cheap one at that. His interest wasn't held by the room for too long. Knowing Tyler, he suspected they might be running on a deadline - they had no time to marvel at all the crazy gadgets around. Besides, Gene had never been one for gadgets. He'd never understood even the more modern air conditioners. If the Doctor fella was right, Tyler should be in here somewhere. It should be easy to find him, since the house didn't look particularly big. As it turned out, there were only two rooms in the building. One was the big main one they were in - it had probably been meant to accommodate the boats for hiring when the building was still being used for its original purpose. The only other area was the cashier's office adjoining the back of the large room. Not wasting any more time, Gene strode brusquely towards the almost rotten wooden door. The thought that Tyler was trapped in there, unable to get past the half fallen door, troubled the DCI.

Not bothering with civilities, Gene gave one swift kick at the door and downed it, barging inside like a force of nature. The person who had imprisoned his DI and manned the boat house had apparently already fled, which meant they wouldn't have much luck finding them any time soon and really closing the case. But at least Tyler was there and apparently still alive, if a bit worse for wear. He had his hands handcuffed behind his back to a metal pipe, which was fast secured to the far wall. The position didn't look at all comfortable and he was sure that Tyler's hands had probably gone to sleep by now. Gene's relief on finding Sam diminished quickly when he approached the man and saw him up close. Sam looked cold and the expression on his face was vacant, his eyes glassy. He might be alive, but even though the lights were on, it seemed that no one was home. And there was still the matter of the Doctor's missing assistant. They may have found his DI, but they were no closer to finding the girl. Sam appeared to be alone in the place. If there had been any other rooms in the building, Gene would have hoped to find the girl there, but apart from these two rooms there was nothing.

Reaching Tyler didn't take him long. The room wasn't big. He didn't even have to run. Not that Gene would have run anyway. Tyler wasn't going anywhere any time soon and it would only have revealed his anxiety over his friend to the others in the team. Gene Hunt never showed that kind of tenderness. He wasn't a poof, only poofs reacted like girls. Despite this, he couldn't hide his worry when he reached the DI and tried to get his attention, but all Tyler did was to look vacantly at his face.

"Tyler, look at me!"

Gene took Sam's face between his hands and tried to shake some sense back into him. "He's totally stoned. I don't think he knows his own name right now."

In the background, Gene could hear the two Doctors arguing about Sam, the girl called Jo and that Master chap, but he had more pressing matters on his plate than paying attention to them. They could argue the matter of his DI being this alien all they liked, it didn't concern him.

"Someone, go and fetch me some keys for this," he snapped at his team, pulling at the handcuffs with frustration.

"They should be in your pocket, Guv," Chris said.

"Well, it's not. I don't go around with the keys in my pockets for any old pillock to steal, Christopher. They're in the Cortina, so go and fetch them, you brain donor!"

Gene refused to divert his gaze from the man in his arms, ignoring the two Doctors completely. He was scared that if he allowed his attention snap away just for a moment, then the next time he looked back at Tyler, the now glassy and near vacant eyes would be devoid of life. Waiting for Chris to bring the handcuff keys so he could take Sam away from this place seemed like the longest time he had ever waited for anything. A weak tug to the hem of his camel overcoat alerted him to the fact that, despite not paying attention to the continuous argument between the Doctors, he had also stopped paying attention to Tyler as well.

"Guv?" Tyler asked. Although he looked a bit more lucid, his eyes were still misty and Gene wasn't sure that he recognised what was happening around him. Apparently he thought Gene was an apparition or a product of wishful thinking.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Sammy-boy," Gene said, trying to sound cheerful instead of concerned. He wasn't sure that Sam had heard or understood him at all, since his face showed nothing. "You better hold on, don't die on me, 'cos I have to finish you personally. I'll 'ave to either kill ya, or send you back to the Academy, 'cos they clearly haven't taught you a thing. Who goes in on their own, you moron?"

He wasn't really expecting any answer from his wayward DI, but he needed to vent his worry and frustration without the risk of Sam finding out that he actually cared. Sam's eyes had cleared a little by now, and the fact that he had been able to speak had to be a positive sign. The skinny pinstriped Doctor realised that the DI was waking up and hurried over, clearly intending to live up to his title of Doctor and examine Sam to determine the state he was in. But Gene had had quite enough of these two Doctors poking their noses in his business, so he didn't try to make the job any easier for the man. Sam shifted in his arms and he let him do it, not even attempting to stop him when the DI tried to fend off the light the Doctor was shining into his eyes. Frankly, Gene could sympathise - if he had just woken up pumped to his eyebrows with drugs and having his retinas blown up to the size of pin-pong balls, he wouldn't be happy either.

"Couldn't whoever is up there send someone else to take my soul?" Sam mumbled, his speech a bit slurred.

"Oh, no, Tyler you are not getting off that easy," Gene said firmly. "I'm not letting you die on me before we finish this case, and I have the opportunity to rub it in yer face when it turns out that is just junkies not being able to hold their drugs. So you stay with me and keep yer eyes open. That's an order, DI Tyler."

"You know I've never been good at following orders, Guv," Sam told him, trying to smile tightly before his eyelids dropped and his eyes closed once again.

Gene lifted his gaze from the now once again unconscious DI to the Doctor, wanting to see what the man's examination had revealed. The Doctor's face looked worried and his eyes were darting nervously towards the other Doctor, who was still standing some distance away, looking like an overgrown petulant child, with his arms folded in front of his velvet jacket and his face frowning. Gene was sure that now that they had found Tyler, the dandified Doctor was wishing that they would move faster and try to find his assistant. Gene didn't blame him really.

Chris came back in the room with the keys, looking as if he had run all the way, just as the Doctor lifted Sam's eyelids to reveal blood shot eyes in which the red capillaries almost covered the whole of the white. The Doctor muttered something about Tyler's blood pressure sky-rocketing and gave instructions to take Sam back to the CID's medical room, telling them that he would be there shortly, not bothering to stop and explain why they shouldn't get him to a hospital. He had a bit of a scruff with the other Doctor, before leaving him there with the squad to deal with Gene and the transportation of the ill DI, and then running off. Gene decided that trying to work the situation out was too much at that moment and just followed the instructions of the obviously mad man, taking Sam over his shoulder in a fireman's lift and carrying him towards the car.

* * *

><p><strong>Torchwood, Cardiff <strong>

Tosh watched Ianto go up the stairs and out the door and looked nervously at the woman that was their prisoner. She was apprehensive when she neared the glass wall of the cell. Mrs Saxon looked tired and small right now lying down on that cot, but Toshiko couldn't forget what she had done around the Rift, not to mention the way she seemed to be able to play on Ianto's psyche. She had noticed that her colleague seemed much more jumpy and withdrawn after he had talked to their most recent guest. On the other hand, Toshiko could understand more than most what it meant to be the prisoner of a futuristic organisation, without having any rights or dignity. It was terrifying, knowing that they could do what they wanted with you and you could do nothing to stop them. It had been hard enough for her, but it must be even more so for someone like Lucy Saxon, who was used to an easy life of luxury. She'd probably never even been in trouble until she met her husband. Tosh thought she would be extremely surprised if Lucy had anything more on her criminal record than a warning from her school master after sneaking out at night while at her exclusive boarding school. Still, she couldn't forget that the same woman was here as an accessory to the crimes of her husband and the recent almost destruction of Cardiff.

Approaching the cell tentatively, Tosh tried to peek at the woman while she was sleeping, or at least while she appeared to be sleeping. Tosh was fascinated with the calm exterior the woman managed to maintain, despite being a prisoner at Torchwood. She didn't lose her cool in front of any of them, even confronted with Jack or Owen. Lucy moved around on the cot as if sensing that someone was there and watching her. She looked at Tosh and for a moment, Toshiko had the strange suspicion that Mrs Saxon was trying to influence her, just by looking fragile and miserable. Of course, that had to be her imagination, but knowing it did nothing to calm her and keep her from flinching slightly when the woman stood up, flung the blanket aside and approached the glass wall of the cell that was separating them.

"Ms Sato, it's good to be able to watch someone in a cell from the position of the jailer, isn't it?" Lucy said, trying to provoke her into starting a conversation that was completely in Lucy's hands. Toshiko knew that, but the topic had hit too close home for her to ignore it and just leave. She knew that she shouldn't let the woman get to her. The best thing to do was just to turn around and walk up the steps, they weren't that far away. But right at that moment, they could very well have been hundreds of feet away. Try as she might, Tosh really couldn't turn around without answering back, or so she thought. She took a deep calming breath and turned determinedly towards the door, fully intent on ignoring Lucy and what she was trying to tell her.

"Tosh, please, you know how it is being a prisoner! Of course, you are treating me in a lot better way than UNIT treated you, but I'm still a prisoner," Lucy said, trying to change her tactics , so that instead of provoking, she came across as vulnerable and needing compassion. "You must understand me! You've broken the rules and ended up as prisoner to save someone as well."

This didn't do much to strengthen Tosh's resolve to just leave the woman on her own, but she knew that Jack and Owen would be back soon, and Jack had sent her some readings from Cardiff Castle that she was supposed to be analysing. So, despite the desire to put Mrs Saxon in her place, or even waiting to listen to all of her arguments, Tosh paused only for a moment without turning round before reaching the door. The last thing she heard from Lucy was the desperate calling of her name and one last try to get Tosh on her side.

* * *

><p>Ianto left Toshiko alone to deal with Mrs Saxon. It wasn't the best thing to do, not as a colleague, nor as friend, but he had some more pressing personal matters to attend to before Jack was back and he was sucked into the mad whirlpool of the new Torchwood case. It was almost a given that Jack had found about Rhiannon by now, but if Ianto was going to even consider helping Mrs Saxon he needed to make sure that Torchwood wouldn't find her. Not that he intended to betray his co- workers, but being prepared for any situation was how Ianto liked to work. So far, he had managed to keep his family away from his job, mostly by not letting anyone know about his sister and not really keeping in touch with her and Johnny enough for them to ask about his work. Now, however, things were different and he needed to take care of keeping the two most important things in his life even further apart. He couldn't imagine how Jack would react if he actually did what he was thinking, but if he was going to lose Jack anyway, he couldn't risk losing Rhiannon and the kids as well.<p>

One strategically-placed call to a tourist agency secured him four tickets to Tunisia, to a resort with a five star, all-inclusive hotel. Of course, the holiday was in his name and Ianto was going to pay for it with cash. The names of the people who were actually going to travel there would be included later. That way, even if Jack found the address of his sister, she would be well on her way out of the country. Hopefully, Jack wouldn't think of checking the Cardiff travel companies for booked holidays in Ianto's or Rhiannon's names. Still, even if he did, she would be out of his reach and out of danger. Not that Jack would do something that low, Ianto knew it, but it didn't hurt to be insured. Besides, he knew that his sister and her family could really do with a good holiday. They hadn't had the means or the time to go on one since Mica was born, so he hoped that if nothing else, he would just be giving them a good present.

Looking around with a bit of trepidation, hoping that Jack wouldn't be back for a while yet, Ianto took his mobile out and dialled Rhiannon's number. When she picked up, she sounded suspicious or surprised, Ianto couldn't tell which, but it was expected since he didn't usually make a habit of calling her during the day at work.

"Just hold on for a moment and listen to me, all right?" Ianto had to insist firmly to stop his sister hurling her incessant questions at him. When she had finally gone quiet and he knew she was ready to listen to him, he continued in a placating voice. "Really Rhi, there isn't any trouble, I just booked you, Johnny and the kids a holiday in Tunisia, you just need to go and take the tickets…"

Before he had even finished the explanation, Rhiannon had started shouting her questions again and demanding answers. Ianto was glad that no one was around, since he was sure that even someone as far away as the tourist office door would be able to hear her. Pulling the phone away from his assaulted ear, he waited for his sister to run out of steam, before trying to explain to her. He had already made up his mind about the explanation he would give her. It was good that she thought Ianto worked as a public servant, it was easy to think of why he needed to send someone on an excursion, but couldn't go there himself. Or at least it was easy when you were a bit creative. The line on the other end become quiet, but he knew that Rhiannon hadn't hung up on him because he could hear her breathing.

"You're done?" he asked. "Good, now listen. It's not a big thing, just the boss of my department gave me a bonus for manipulating the taxes he has to pay. You know how it is in the public service, the boss likes to use the secretary to tweak the numbers so he pays less. Of course, I can't take the bonus or we both could get in trouble with the financial department, but I can send you on a holiday."

Of course it wasn't all that easy to allay Rhiannon's fears and suspicious, she was a woman who didn't believe in gifts falling out the sky, but after a few more minutes of assuring her that he wasn't in any trouble and that it wouldn't end up with him in the jail, she finally agreed to take the opportunity to go away from the city with her family and enjoy her free time with Johnny. Saying his goodbyes to his sister and giving her the last details of the holiday and the travel agency, Ianto hung up the phone and started to idly tidy up the shop.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: ** I want to thanks my wonderful beta **Brownbug **for her work. Also want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your reviews make me carry on with this story , despite my insecurity in the quality of the last few chapters. Thanks folks.

* * *

><p>The next time he came to himself, he was lying on a sofa inside the medical centre of the police station. He couldn't determine how much time had passed since 'A' Division had found him in the abandoned boat house, but it couldn't have been all that long if no-one had got worried enough to send him to hospital. The Master could feel his mind slowly becoming clearer. He was now able to process his thoughts logically and in an orderly sequence, which meant that the Doctor must have found something to give him to counteract the Rani's drug. He tried very hard to be annoyed at the Doctor, but the part of him that was Sam was grateful for the opportunity to live a little longer. Apart from that, they still needed to work on the case at hand, to find out exactly how the chain of traffic created by the Rani and his earlier incarnation had worked. For that, he needed to think and act as a police officer full time. The best way to do that was to let the personality of Sam keep closer to the surface of his mind and to leave his own personality in the background. He wouldn't go fully dormant, of course. How would he be better than these little stupid humans if he was fully one of them? But he needed the analytical mind of the DI in this situation. Not least, he needed to convince the Doctor that he was fit to trust and be taken away from here without being locked in the TARDIS. What better way to do it than to solve a crime and help save the city from a murderer?<p>

A further clue about the time that had passed was the fact that he could still hear the voices of Gene and the two Doctors arguing not too far away from him. It sounded as if Gene was more annoyed at the Doctor who coincided with Sam's timeline. It was logical really - the other Doctor was only concentrating on finding Miss Grant at the moment. Not that he wasn't worried about the discovery that they had not one, but two incarnations of the Master to deal with, but by what the Master could hear, he was going to deal with that situation later. The UNIT Doctor's most pressing matter at that moment was his missing assistant. For once Gene was agreeing with someone. Sam suspected that it was mostly because the Guv had no intention of turning against his DI, merely based on some wild accusations that he was a murderous alien, even if the person doing the accusing was from Special Ops.

He could feel the cramps in his muscles when he tried to move from the sofa. At that moment he was grateful that he had spent some time in oblivion, because he was sure that the cramps had been worse than they were now. With a bit of moving around and flexing, he managed to get up on his aching but steady legs. The ache in his arms and shoulders was the worst, which he was sure was due to him being handcuffed for an extensive period of time.

Before he reached the door, he was met by a worried looking Annie Cartwright, who entered the room and hastily approached him, taking his face in her hands. She turned his head from one side to the other and tried to check his eyes for any sign that he wasn't all right. Apparently reassured at what she had seen in his expression, she let go of his face and took a step backwards to take in his full appearance.

"God, Sam," Annie said. "Do you know how scared I was? Don't ever do that to me again! How do you feel?"

"Like a bus 'ad run over me," the Master answered her and sidestepped around her, to make his way out of the medical room and towards the arguing group of people.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" he said, distracted.

"The Guv's not happy with you."

"Yeah, I kinda gathered that."

"That Doctor bloke, he said that you aren't really Sam," Annie prompted hesitantly. "'E said that you're some kind of an alien. Is that truth? I mean aliens… " She gave a nervous laugh.

"An' what if I am?" the Master asked snappishly. That was exactly what he didn't need right now, explaining his origins to a little ape girl. Sure, she was cute and probably would do as a great pet, maybe even better than Lucy, but he didn't have time for her questions. Not that her little monkey brain would understand anything of what he would have to say even if he explained it all to her.

_Little ape? Monkey brain? Really, is that how you're going to be keeping the personality of Sam Tyler in the foreground? That kind of thinking isn't exactly going to help,_ he berated himself. He needed to think as a human. It made him want to retch, but he couldn't ignore the need for it.

"Nothin' really," Annie answered almost shyly, averting her gaze away from him and looking at the floor instead. "Not that aliens exist…but… if they did, nothin' would change for me really, an' I'm sure it wouldn't for the Guv an' the others. Certainly not for Ray," she tried to joke at the end.

He only quirked an eyebrow at her without further contributing to the discussion and then directed his attention to the people outside the room, where the argument over whether he was human or alien continued.

The UNIT Doctor was leaning against one of the desks, looking agitated, while the Torchwood Doctor, or the-babbling-skinny-idiot, as he preferred to call him, was pacing around between the desks and chairs and talking a mile a minute. He was probably trying to persuade not only Gene and the Manchester CID, but also the other Doctor, that Sam was actually a real Time Lord. It was obvious that the UNIT Doctor at that moment didn't particularly care about the real identity of Sam Tyler. All he cared about was finding his assistant._ And rightfully so_, the Master thought.

"Can we leave the discussion about Tyler's secret identity, til we find the girl?" Surprisingly it was Gene Hunt who was the voice of reason in the end. As much as the two Doctors were in a hurry to find Josephine Grant, they seemed to get more than easily distracted by the debate they were having.

"I really hate to say this, but I agree with the Guv."

No one had noticed him arrive, and he used the moment to put them off balance by approaching them and putting in his comment smugly when he saw their startled faces. The most nervous one looked to be the Doctor from his personal time line. He wondered why that particular Doctor decided to associate himself with the name of Torchwood, but he must have a good reason. He probably needed to persuade Gene that he was on their side and not their suspect, and since the other Doctor had already used the alias of John Smith, he would have had to think of something else. How exactly they would all work together from now on, he didn't know, since the Doctor would be suspicious all the time, and it wasn't as if he felt all that comfortable around the both of them anyway. One Doctor was bad enough, two was simple torture.

Whatever the reason that the Doctor was here, he knew that the next few hours or days would be very interesting. However, all this would have to wait until the job was finished, so stilling himself, he called forward whatever was left inside him of DI Sam Tyler and went to his desk to once more look through the folders that were lying there from before the disastrous trip to the gang's quarters. Sam was sure it was most likely futile, but there was nothing better he could think of doing right at that moment. On his right, he could see Gene sniffing at his pocket flask and tipping it to the side as if to look at it better. Quirking an eyebrow at him, Sam propped himself against the desk and folded his arms, waiting for the Guv to finish with his silly theatrics.

"What?"

"Nothing, just wondering if you would find something in there," Sam smirked, shrugging.

"Just wanted to make sure you 'aven't drank any of my scotch." Gene sniffed the bottle again for a good measure. "You haven't, but now I don't 'ave any explanation on why you're agreeing with me."

Rolling his eyes, Sam turned back to the files; it was so typical of Gene to make some lame joke just to annoy him. The problem was that most of the time he actually did manage to do it. Gene seemed to get distracted by something and left his side, probably because he realised Sam wasn't going to indulge him in a battle of wits. Apparently, the thing that had distracted him was the phone ringing in his office. The fact that he actually went to answer it, knowing that it was most likely Litton, spoke volumes at how dismissive Sam must have appeared. He wasn't much bothered. Maybe if they all left him alone for a moment, he would be able to find the golden middle between being Sam and the Master.

Of course, having that much luck would have been too much to ask for, because the moment Hunt left his side and he took up one of the folders, the Doctor approached him with his patented swagger, his long brown coat swirling around his ankles in a way the Master was sure it wasn't supposed to. He was sure that there was some secret in the way the Time Lord walked that caused his overcoat to move, defying the logic of the way other clothing did. Shaking himself, and frowning that he was thinking of the Doctor again when he was supposed to be concentrating on something more important, he started to ruffle through the folder and did his best to ignore the presence of the man who stopped next to him and stayed silent for a while. Grateful for that for as long as it would last, he concentrated on what he was reading, sure that there should be something there. There should be some connection to the gang, despite the last murder looking as anything but. Suddenly, he realised that he hadn't told anyone about what he had found out in the boat house. Had they found out something about the presence of the Rani while he was out cold?

"So, Tyler, huh? " the Doctor asked, finally losing his patience and snatching the folder out of his hand. He started to ruffle through it, faking interest, but it still was evident to the Master that the Doctor was secretly watching him of the corner of his eye and assessing his reaction. "Of all names to choose…"

Whatever the Doctor was expecting to find out by asking him this question or with the comment he made after, he had no bloody idea. There were so many more questions he had expected the Doctor to ask of him. Questions like, how had he survived? What happened? Or why was he here? But the first thing the Doctor asked him was about his name. What was so important about his name? It wasn't even as if he had chosen it himself. He was just dumped here and called Sam Tyler, without even being asked if he bloody knew who that was.

"What's your game now, Master?" the Doctor asked, putting all the emphasis on the one last word that he had chosen as his name so long ago. But at the moment, that name didn't mean much more to him than the name Sam Tyler, which was quite disconcerting.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he said, trying to refute the Doctor's accusations, even though he knew exactly what the other man meant. It had never been an coincidence when the two of them met before. But right now, he was genuine in his confusion over the situation; he really didn't know what exactly was happening to him, apart from somehow ending up being half human and having half of someone else's personality inside himself.

He tried to get the folder back, but the Doctor very childishly held it out of his reach. He wasn't really in the mood for playing silly games, so he turned towards the desk and took out the tape recorder to listen to the last couple of interrogations. He had missed the last one and wanted to get back into the case. Not answering the Doctor again was deliberate, but it was probably going to backfire, knowing that the other Time Lord hated being ignored. He was glad that at least the other Doctor was keeping silently out of the way, absorbed in tweaking with a gadget of some sort, probably trying to find a way to locate his missing assistant.

"You know, I've always known that you're obsessed with me, but that's a bit too much," the Doctor started talking again, ignoring the fact that the Master had turned his back on him and was listening to the recorded interrogation, not him. "You know, all that…" He waved his hands towards the Master, indicating that he should look at his body. "The leather jacket, jeans, even the Manchester accent. But you know what? You're one regeneration behind."

The Master tried to keep on ignoring him and to focus on the recording, but the Doctor's prattling was really starting to grate on his nerves. All this made him unable to concentrate and the only thing he could do was to turn the recorder off. It really didn't look like he would be able to do any work unless he provided the Doctor with some answers.

Well, tough, because he wasn't going to.

Maybe he finally had some lucky stars smiling upon him, because he was saved from having to answer the Doctor by Phyllis, who came into the station leading a shocked-looking woman. The woman was dressed in sparse clothing, only covering the most essential parts of her body, and it was probably because outside was cold and wet. If he had to make a guess, the Master thought that the woman was probably one of the night workers on the streets.

Both women were soaked to the bone from the rain outside; their hands were tucked under their armpits. Phyllis had the little advantage of having her police uniform on, while the only clothes the other girl had were the really short leather skirt and the top that was most likely a converted bra. All that her clothes were doing at the moment was to cling to her frame and make her feel the wetness even more. Gene had either been watching from his office, or he had a practically-naked-woman detector, but the moment Phyllis led the girl to sit at one of the desks, the Guv was upon her like a hawk diving on prey.

"'Ello luv, lovely eyes you have there," Gene greeted the girl, smiling wolfishly and although complimenting her eyes, even people who didn't know his antics could see that his eyes were latched on to her breasts. "WPC Cartwright 'ere says you've seen somethin' 'round the dead girl's body."

The Master rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall next to the girl and readying himself to be available to ask more relevant questions, because he was sure that Gene was going to stray from the topic and try to probe the girl around about her profession, which had nothing to do with the case. Either that or he could scare her with his antics.

"I did, sir, but it was strange…" the girl said, looking around as if she was expecting to be jumped on by something nasty, or to be declared insane when she answered the questions.

"What's your name?" Annie asked gently, bringing her a steaming cup of tea for comfort and a couple of towels.

"Megan," the girl answered. Her voice was trembling with the cold that was biting at her flesh and bones, making her fingers go numb.

"Ok, Megan, luv, it might sound strange, but you need to tell us what you know. We need to expose this criminal," Gene told her and the room was filled with snickers from the rest of the officers. The girl opened her mouth, trying to protest that what she had seen wasn't anything that could help with catching a killer, but Gene lifted his hand to stop her. "See, luv, we need to find the naked truth, bare it out for everyone to see, to solve the crime."

Gene's words evoked more snickers and some barely restrained laughter from his colleagues. The Master started to feel annoyed at how unprofessional most of them were. Pushing himself off the wall, he leaned over on the desk to fix Gene with a disapproving glare, before he turned to the girl and extended his hand.

"DI Sam Tyler," he introduced himself and couldn't help but notice the sceptical smirk on the Doctor's face, accompanied by a pointed intense glare that was fixated right in his direction and never wavered. "I promise you that whatever you have to say won't be laughed at."

Megan fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, but after a while noticed that most of the officers in the station were staring at her hands with interest. Realising that she couldn't pull on her too short skirt without attracting attention by putting her hands too far up between her legs, she instantly stopped that activity and instead opted to play with her small purse. She looked up dopily and nodded towards Gene's cigarette pack, sending him a questioning look. It wasn't long after that Gene gave a resigned sigh, as if to show that he was annoyed to have to waste one of his cigarettes to get a witness to talk.

_The things Gene will do in the name of his work_, the Master thought dryly.

Pulling one of the offered cigarettes from the pack, Megan took a deep breath and exhaled, looking more composed and almost blissful for a moment. It seemed as if the smoke did more for her comfort and warmth than the tea and towels that Annie had offered. What was with these humans and cigarettes in this decade, he wondered? It was annoying and dirty; the whole city looked as if it was made out of dirt and fumes. Maybe it was due to the exhaust from the cars and factories. He much preferred the 21st century - at least by then there were some controls on the poisonous fumes from cars and engines, as well as places people were allowed to smoke. A cough and another snigger brought him back to reality and the matter at hand, just in time to see Megan squirm in the chair and try not to blush.

"No, let her continue," the Doctor was saying, stopping Gene from commenting. "As I said we at Torchwood and UNIT deal with strange matters."

"'Course, right, strange," Gene was saying, stifling a laugh. "But big bastard monsters, with claws? She must've taken some of that new drug."

The girl looked insulted and if she wasn't in shock, she would probably have hit him. It could have also been the fact that she was in a police station and he was the chief that stopped her. After all she might not be using, but her profession wasn't really legal, and despite being only a witness at the moment, one wrong move to annoy the Governor might be sufficient to change that and to put her behind the bars, charged with selling her body. It was evident to the Master that she wasn't quite that stupid.

"I don't shoot anything, Governor," Megan said proudly. "Just because I'm in this business doesn't mean that I'm a junkie. I know what I saw. It wasn't big, just lizardy. But…then there was a… I don't know...something in the fog...and then something big came and then it was gone…" She was trying to explain an extraordinary phenomenon using every day words; it evidently wasn't easy to do.

"Lizardy, big claws…" the Doctor was starting to mutter to himself, not even noticing the incredulous looks that Gene was sending him. "Is lizardy even a word? I mean lizardy, lizard-y, leeeeezardeee…"

"Oi, focus, big claws, butchers women," the Master snapped at him, fed up with listening to him musing over one insignificant word and bending the pronunciation in frankly ridiculous ways. At moments like this, he really wondered how the Doctor ever managed to get anything done. Surely he didn't stop every time in the middle of the action to ponder over something that had just popped into his head. Maybe he didn't, maybe it was just the Master's bad luck to meet the Doctor in his most annoying moments. It wouldn't surprise him; after all it was his luck to meet Gene when he was the most irritable.

It didn't look like the Doctor had even heard him speak; he only waved his hand in the Master's direction to hush him, probably wanting to imply that he was concentrating, despite the evidence telling otherwise. He went to the other Doctor, who was completely ignoring the other people around him, but soon drew back unsatisfied. The UNIT probably had as much clue as the CID and the Torchwood. It surprised the Master that he thought in terms like UNIT and Torchwood to distinguish the two Doctors, but it was probably due to Sam's human nature and needing something to define different incarnations of the same person.

"The smell…" the Doctor suddenly shouted.

"What?"

"The smell…what was it you said?"

"I didn't," the Master answered, confused. "The other Doctor said it was like molten metal."

"Yeah, semantics," the Doctor waved that off. "Metal, molten metal…lizardy creatures…"

"Teleport device," the Master and the Doctor shouted simultaneously and looked at each other with shock.

It was strange enough to know that he was picking up on some of Gene Hunt's thought patterns, but doing it with the Doctor as well was very disconcerting. Although, he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised - he and the Doctor had known each other for far longer.

"Ok, something I'm missing here?" It was Gene who broke the sudden silence between them and directed the shocked stares towards him.

"There are a few races that are reptilian, know about Earth and are advanced enough to use transmat beams. But there is only one that could fertilize another species, but they would need a chemical which you don't have on Earth at this moment."

"The Rani…" the Master supplied helpfully, suddenly remembering that he was still to mention what had happened to him in the boat house. He was thinking about mentioning the Rani earlier, but with everything that was happening, it had escaped his mind. He looked at the tape recorder that was now running on empty, since the tape had finished. He had forgotten to turn it off, and they hadn't even registered the noise running on in the background. Reaching out over the desk, he pushed the off button and turned back to the rest of the room's occupants to continue what he wanted to say. "That's who was at the boat house with me! The fertilizing chemical is her creation, and that's what's killing our junkies." The last one was directed to Gene Hunt who only sent him a dirty glare.

"And you didn't think to mention it until now?" Gene asked him angrily, making a step towards him ready to punch, until a hand clad in velvet stopped him gently but firmly.

"Well I was a bit stoned until now," the Master shouted back, wishing that Gene would actually make the last step and deliver the punch so he would have an excuse to hit back. This body wasn't really ideally built for physical combat, but there were times when he would gladly try his rugby tackle moves on Gene, he just needed an excuse at that moment. However, the opportunity for that was taken away when Megan cleared her throat loudly and redirected their attention back to her. They both turned to her in synchrony, realising that for the last couple of minutes they had all but forgotten their witness.

"Yes, luv," Gene said sweetly, through his clenched teeth. "Do you have something to add?"

The girl managed to feel flustered, despite knowing that the DCI's frustration wasn't actually directed at her. This whole situation was making her nervous, the way that almost everyone seemed to think her mad, and judging her by what she was doing to earn her living. Not to mention that she had seen something really impossible and had to tell it all to a snickering, sceptical bunch of men.

"No, I was just…thinking...if you don't need me any more," she said, squirming in her seat and making nervous gestures towards the station's door. "Maybe I can go now?" she finished asking hopefully.

Gene just grumbled something almost incomprehensible and nodded at her to leave. She hurriedly took her purse, gave another self-conscious tuck on her skirt and scurried towards the door. When the door opened, a wave of relatively clean air came into the room and cleared some of the stale cigarette smell. It was pissing with rain outside, but that really was nothing new for this dank corner of the world, and the Master was almost ready to thank the incessant rain for clearing some of the stale smell around.

The brief interruption didn't seem to have interrupted the concentration of the Doctor at all. The Master doubted he had even seen the girl leave.

"The Rani…hmm… a lizard-y creature… drugs…" The Doctor paced around, raking his hands through his ridiculously styled hair, pulling on it and tangling his fingers in it. "Think, think, think…"

In the end, the Master decided to leave the Doctor to it and returned his attention back to what little coherent and relevant information they had. He picked up the files and the tape recorder again and made his way towards the white board they had in the common room. The board was still clean, which meant that no one had made an attempt to sort through the information and put it in order, trying to make a connection. He doubted anyone ever would in his absence. He set down the folders and the recorder and hit play, trying to tune out the Doctor and the rest of CID and concentrate on what Jimmy was saying.

_"She would only come once a day and supply some of us with free stock. She never asked us for money, only wanted us to make sure that we spread the drug, mostly between women and girls. It's strange now, when I think of it, Mr Hunt."_

Jimmy's voice came through the speaker. At first it didn't sound like much to go on, but then something caught the Master's attention and he re-wound the tape and hit the play once more…

_"She never asked us for money, only wanted us to make sure that we spread the drug, mostly between women and girls. It's strange now…"_

He stopped the tape again and re-wound it once more.

_"She never asked us for money, only wanted us to make sure that we spread the drug, mostly between women and girls. It's strange…"_

Re-wind.

_"She never asked us for money, only wanted us to make sure that we spread the drug, mostly between women and girls."_

Stop…Re-wind…

_"…only wanted us to make sure that we spread the drug, mostly between women and girls."_

_"…mostly between women and girls."_

He pressed the end button and jumped from his seat, going straight for Gene, not caring that he interrupted the Doctor in middle of his monologue. Dragging the white board with him, the Master clapped with his hands to get the attention of the rest of the room.

"Now, as I told you a moment ago, I was drugged by the Rani," he began, despite not having the full attention of the room yet, especially not Gene's. He was sure that Gene's attention would be where he wanted it soon enough. "If I remember well, she told me that her last experiment was a fertilisation drug. Our man in the cell confessed to you lot that he took the new drug from a woman whose only instruction was to give it specifically to women and girls…"

He stopped and looked around in expectation, but was met by only blank stares, until Gene Hunt stopped discussing whatever he found so important to discuss with Ray while his DI was talking and actually proved he was paying attention.

"So, that shows us that yer killer is a skirt," Hunt grumped out. "You already knew that, and we lost her, so how's that helping?"

"Not just any skirt, Guv, the Rani," he informed Hunt, as if expecting the man to know exactly who the Rani was. "She was telling me how she adapted the alien chemical to Oestrogen, therefore rendering it deadly to males. So here's our first and second victim." The Master produced a marker and started to scribble on the white board, before Gene Hunt managed to interrupt with another one of his sceptical comments.

He wrote the word 'Oestrogen' and circled it, drawing an arrow from it pointing to another word – 'woman'. A second arrow from the first word was drawn on the other side, pointing to the words 'lizard/alien'. Two adjoining arrows led from 'woman' and 'alien' to one word - 'fertilization.'

He stepped back and looked at the board critically. Something was still missing, all these were things they already knew, but they led them nowhere really. Discovering the species of the alien or working out that it was the Rani who spread the drug didn't help the Manchester CID in the long term. They would most likely never catch her, and although the two Doctors could easily take care of the alien creature, the fact that the drug was already circulating around Manchester's underground still stood as a fact. The chemical was deadly and removing the aliens wouldn't solve the basic problem - there was probably enough of the drug out there to kill people for another couple of months before the stock ran out.

"Phyllis, bring Jimmy Conner here!" The Master sent the WPC off to bring in their most recent collar, to ask him about anything else that he might remember or that the others had missed during the first interrogation. He looked at the board once again, ignoring the look that Gene threw his way and the bewildered looks the two Doctors were giving him, clearly not used to having him trying to work out a criminal case. However surprising that might have been, even for him at that moment, he didn't really care. All his attention was directed on to the board and the words that were there, repeating them endlessly inside his mind and rearranging them around, trying to place them in the right positions.

Lizard-y species, fertilizing chemicals, the mother coming to collect the child or the embryo, teleportation, compatible with humanoids…The facts were flying madly, creating connections and patterns, but not making much sense. He was sure that the Doctor was wracking his brain around it as well, and he could only hope that the other Time Lord could come up with something. He took the marker again and started a new diagram next to his first one. On the top, he wrote the word 'ring'. The two arrows that he drew coming down from it consequently led to two other words - 'gang' and 'murder'. He looked at it, trying to once again work out what was missing there, but this time he was promptly interrupted by the pinstriped Doctor, who shouted loudly in the silence that was permeating the room until then.

"Zorgas," the Doctor shouted again, probably not receiving the expected effect with his first exclamation. "From the planet of Zorg, a really cold and dry planet, the species are relatively amicable except when they need to repopulate. They are the only lizard-y species that are humanoid enough to be compatible with humans and have teleports. Of course there are the Silurians who are humanoid enough but they don't operate this way. Although, why the Zorgas would want human females to carry their offspring remains to be answered later."

He had to give the Doctor credir, the Master thought, he knew how to re-direct and keep the CID's attention on himself, even when Phyllis had arrived at that moment alone, despite his instructions to bring Jimmy Conner. Everyone in the room and close enough in the vicinity to hear and see the Doctor was looking at him, gaping, as if they weren't sure which action would be better to preserve their health, calling the shrinks or running away. Before anyone could take any one of the mentioned actions, the Master hit on the white board and exclaimed, "That's it!"

The attention of the room was finally with him as he started to talk his colleagues through his existing diagrams. Explaining the connections in them, he added an arrow near 'lizard/alien' and put the label Zorga to it. Then he wrote 'cold' leaving it unconnected.

"Any more thoughts?" he asked around the room.

"You said the planet is cold." Chris, prompted by the Doctor and encouraged by him, turned towards the board and the Master. "So they'll need something cold to store the drug and their eggs."

"Right, good one," the Master grinned, nodding at Chris and drawing another arrow to connect 'cold' with 'Zorga'.

"Jimmy's dead," said Phyllis, cutting short their work and interrupting the Master's thinking process, just when he thought that his brain had finally kicked into gear.

"Not now, Phyllis," he snapped at her. "I couldn't care less."

He looked around in the sudden shocked silence and cursed inwardly. If nothing else had given the Doctor cause to doubt him, a reaction like this would. Still, it didn't matter much - the Doctor knew anyway and he really didn't have time to waste on showing untoward sympathy, the way his human counterpart might have.

"But, Boss the guy's dead in our cells," Phyllis protested. They could all see the battle that was going inside Gene Hunt - on the one hand, Phyllis was right and they had a dead collar. On the other hand, they were finally making some progress towards finding out what had been going on around here in the last few days. In the end, he decided to send Annie and Phyllis to deal with the dead man and waited for the Master to continue.

"OK, they need a cold place to store the eggs, and the boat house was hardly cold enough," the Master picked up from where he was interrupted. "Suggestions?"

"When we watched that gang, their place was near the Manchester Food College," Gene said. "The industrial freezer…"

The Master nodded and looked at the white board, then back at Gene. They locked gazes for a moment, after which they jumped in perfect sync over whatever obstacle they found in the way and grabbed at their jackets, running off towards the doors and the car park.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter and haven't given up on this story yet after a year of WIP. Katie here is the promised Owen chapter for you, hope you will enjoy it. **

**A special thank you to my wonderful beta Brownbug, who has Birthday today so I want to dedicate this chapter to her, is not much but… HAPPY BIRTHDAY Brownbug!**

* * *

><p>When Tosh left the vaults to make her way through the upper levels to the main part of the Hub, her mind was struggling to process everything, wanting to arrive at something resembling peace. The feel of cold concrete and the dank smell of the passages in the lower levels of the Hub had never seemed so oppressive to her before. She never usually spent too much time down here anyway, but the very thought of having to do it, and going maybe even lower into the levels beyond the holding cells, made her shudder. The walls were heavily laden with mould and something else slimy, born from years and years of persistent damp and water running constantly down the walls. The imposing vaulted Victorian brick walls and ceiling made the dark place look haunted. The lights weren't in the best state of repair either - the one in the corridor leading to the archives was flickering on and off regularly. She wondered how Ianto could seemingly enjoy spending so much time down here. Maybe that was the reason for his dark moods and the pallor of his skin.<p>

She sighed, knowing that she was being illogical and that all these thoughts had been brought to the surface by Lucy's words. Her talk with Mrs Saxon had raised up buried memories of another dark and dank place, memories which she preferred to leave forgotten. Her time inside the UNIT prison had been traumatic at best, but up until now, Toshiko had believed she'd succeeded in putting it behind her. And perhaps she almost had, until Lucy Saxon came along and stirred it all up again. She reached her work-station almost on auto pilot and started up an analysis of the readings which Jack had sent her from his PDA.

It wasn't long before she noticed some patterns in there. It still didn't make much sense, but nothing much that was happening lately did. She took the results of the last Rift spike and compared it to the new data. The cross-referencing was finished in almost no time at all and Toshiko was able to take a breath, drink something and even prepare the information that she was going to give to Jack. She was sure that he would call a meeting to discuss the findings and hopefully Gwen would be back by then, because wedding plans or not, she was still part of Torchwood and it would make Jack hard to work with if she missed a team conference. However, the most pressing matter right now for Toshiko was to sort through her data to ensure only the most important and relative information ended up in her report.

She knew that the Rift could make negative spikes and take people and objects from Cardiff, as well as dumping flotsam and jetsam from the rest of the Universe on them. But the readings from a few days ago up to now showed something completely new. Something Toshiko had never seen before on the Rift Monitors. The positive and negative Rift spikes coincided and were perfectly in sync - the moment one kind of spike occurred, the other followed as if to correct the damage. Nothing visible happened, if she excluded the quake from a few days ago and the Cardiff Castle ghost sightings.

* * *

><p>The black SUV entered the Torchwood garage and the two passengers left hurriedly. Leaving the garage, they walked towards the Tourist Information Office on the bay. Owen thought it was a pity that they didn't have time for a pint in some pub with street tables, because staying cooped up inside in an unusual weather like this was a waste. It wasn't a big deal most of the time, since Cardiff wasn't exactly famous for its nice, sunny summer days, but this October day was such a contrast to what was going on inside the Hub. At least the trip hadn't been a total waste, since they found something that might prove useful. He still couldn't see how, but now things were in the hands of their technical genius and if someone could get to the bottom of it, Tosh was the one.<p>

Even though they made their way hastily from the garage to the Tourist Office, Owen still had the time to look around at the state of the Bay, and decided that it might actually not be that much of a pity that they couldn't stay out. Despite the efficient work of the council and the emergency services, part of the Bay still looked like a bomb site. There was wreckage around almost all of Cardiff, but the Bay had suffered the most since it was in the epicentre of the active Rift. Owen thought himself lucky, because his apartment was still intact and standing, even if it had a couple of broken windows, which couldn't be said for everyone. Gwen was still moaning how she and Rhys had to completely replace the kitchen windows in their apartment, not only the glass, and how Rhys had to totally refurbish the bathroom. Giving one last pitying look at the Bay, Owen followed the Captain inside.

Ianto met them in the Information Centre, holding a clipboard and a pen, looking for all intents and purposes as if he had been standing there the whole time, waiting for them to come, or knew the exact time they would enter the shop. In Owen's opinion, the boy's life must be quite boring, always striving to be so efficient. He wasn't sure if it was just Ianto's nature or if it was a pathetic attempt to make Jack notice him.

"You had a call from the Mayor of Cardiff and the head of UNIT," Ianto said, ticking off the first delivered message. It was the normal procedure; even Owen knew it by now. Ianto would write down the names of the callers, and their contact details, with quick bullet points of the most important things from the messages. Then he would sort them out in order of importance and time the calls were made. Then he would tick off the messages he had delivered to Jack, and rearrange them to tick off later the ones Jack had called back, and the ones that Ianto had to make amends to for Jack's short fuse when talking to politicians or other powerful figures.

"Anything important they want to know?" Jack asked him.

"They want an update on what happened in Cardiff last week and why they weren't informed before hearing it on the news," Ianto said, while scanning through the list for the other messages. "The Mayor asked why you didn't pick up the phone."

"What did you tell them, Tea-boy?" Owen asked. "Killed them with politeness?"

He knew that his comment was uncalled for, but he was annoyed, and since Jack seemed to ignore him for the better part of the trip, he needed someone to wind up. On top of that, he wanted to hear what Toshiko had found out about the readings, and the archivist was delaying them with his boring administrative nonsense. The trouble was, Ianto's patience was almost infinite and it was always hard work to wind him up, which in return annoyed Owen even further. It wasn't much fun to bait or shout at someone who wouldn't answer back.

"I told them that you were out saving the day by risking your necks so they can sit back on their expansive back sides and give press conferences to keep the people oblivious." Ianto's face was absolutely blank when he made the announcement. It was quite hard to tell if what he had just said was the truth, or if it was only to contradict Owen's earlier statement about being polite unto death.

"You didn't!" Jack exclaimed, unable to hide his half-excitement and half-worry.

"No, of course not, I used the word expensive," Ianto deadpanned and turned around, walking though the hidden door and into the lift that would take him into the depths of the Hub.

"You know the problem with him is that I'm never sure if he's joking," Jack commented and followed Ianto, leaving Owen to his own thoughts, which currently revolved around how pissed he was going to get once the workday was over. He shook himself out of his daydream and ran, sliding sidewise into the lift, just before the doors had closed. Owen was sure that sort of thing annoyed the punctual Tea-boy, despite him not showing it, and the thought gave the snarky medic a great deal of satisfaction. Yeah, he was that petty - so what?

It seemed Gwen had just run into the Hub ahead of them, obviously trying to get there before Jack, so she didn't have to feel embarrassed that she was late once again, because her boyfriend had kept her longer. She wasn't quite as sickening with her wedding plans as some girls could be. All the same, Owen would thank her not to let it interfere with her job, not to mention rubbing it in other people's faces what losers they were in their personal lives. Ignoring Jack's inquiries towards Gwen about whether she had chosen a church and a venue yet, Owen went over to Tosh to find out some more useful information.

"Found anything on our ghosts yet?" he asked her, looking over her shoulder at the screen, where an incomprehensible (in his opinion) program was running an incessant string of information. She started for a moment, clearly being too lost in her work to notice him approach. Owen saw a mug on her right that had probably been standing there for a while and now was empty. However, Tosh picked it up and tried to drink from it, only to notice that the coffee had run out. He wondered how many times she had repeated this without noticing.

When she turned around to explain to him her findings, there was a gleam in her eyes that showed how much she had enjoyed her research. Owen couldn't help wondering if she would react like this to having sex with someone, or whether a smooth-working program was more exciting for their technical genius.

"I found a connection between the last negative and positive spikes, and something when Lucy Saxon appeared and the Rift activated," Tosh explained with enthusiasm. "I'm sure that Jack is going to call a meeting in the conference room and then I'll explain everything."

She had no sooner smiled and turned back towards her work station, when the Captain shouted for them to be in the conference room in five minutes. Recalling the mood Jack had been in before he left for Cardiff Castle, none of them wanted to test his tolerance, so they hurried to finish whatever they were doing and took their reports into the conference room as quickly as they could. The only one who went at a leisurely pace, not bothered by it all and preparing the drinks with his normal coolness, was the Tea-boy. Owen had to give him credit, that boy had bloody strong nerves.

Everyone took their usual seats around the table, each with a folder in front of them. That's another missed lunch, Owen mused regretfully. He knew Ianto had ordered something, but they probably wouldn't have time to eat. He made a note to take a piece of pizza to his med bay and eat it there. It would annoy the archivist, but everyone was doing it on a job like this. Jack liked to encourage the team to get together over a meal, but on more than one occasion they'd had to take their food to their individual work stations.

"So, let's start with the most important matter," Jack said, all pleasantries from his previous wedding conversation with Gwen forgotten. "Tosh, what do you have for me?"

Tosh took her folder and opened it, before standing up. While she was turning on the vid screen to show them her diagrams (that frankly only her and possibly Jack understood), Ianto entered quietly with the coffees and a few snacks to keep them going and left just as quietly.

"I've cross-referenced the data you sent me from your PDA with previous Rift activity." Tosh started her explanation of the diagram now visible on the view screen. "In yellow are the negative spikes of the Rift when it takes things from here and transports them away. In blue are the positive spikes that the Rift makes when it spits stuff out on us. As you can see, in the moment when Lucy Saxon appeared, the two different energy spikes occurred in absolute synchrony."

"It took the ring and sent something our way," Gwen suggested. "But there was nothing we could find. Is it possible that it sent it to a different time?"

"Could be, although then we wouldn't experience it, the Torchwood in that time would," Jack surmised.

"What if it was supposed to send something our way, but it didn't and it got interrupted in the process?" Owen questioned.

"Plausible," Jack nodded.

Tosh brought up another diagram on the screen, this one also showing the yellow and blue energy spikes, but at some points they were crossed by a red line. Owen thought that, however little he could understand of technical diagrams, the line wasn't shown in the colour red for nothing.

"This red line," Tosh continued after the interruption, "is the energy reading you sent me from the Castle. It's the Rift, but acting way beyond either of the previous energy readings. This one is like a wormhole that the Rift is trying to push through time and space."

"A wormhole, here in Cardiff?" Gwen asked. Owen wondered if her eyes could get any bigger.

"Through time?" Owen asked, which was the more pressing question at the moment, in his opinion. Of course he knew that it was possible to travel through time. Jack and Tosh had done it before, going back to the '40s. It just seemed strange that it could be such a common occurrence.

"It's possible, although it's just a theory at the moment," Tosh answered him and switched the screen to another diagram this one showing two identical geometric figures which were slowly moving towards each other and merging. "The official theory is that a travelling object cannot pass from one horizon to another - the object would simply get lost and won't exist in either horizon, therefore the idea that the wormhole can connect two Universes is incorrect. It's been speculated that a traveller in space could, however, see lights through the wormhole from the other universe." Everyone could see that Tosh was in her element right now. She looked around and waited for the information to sink in then resumed her speech.

"However, after what happened at Canary Wharf, we know that crossing from one universe to the other is possible, if the Rift is open. Of course, the Rift is closed, but what if there was another way and the Rift is merely reacting, therefore activating, but not opening? The region between the two horizons is known as a Schwarzschild bubble," Tosh explained, indicating a point where the two separate parts of the wormhole connected in a thin line. "Suppose that, despite all the objections, our Universe is attached to another Universe via a Schwarzschild wormhole. It would be foolhardy to attempt to travel through it, because a wormhole is unstable. But it could be stabilised by tying the throat of the wormhole with 'exotic matter'. In the wormhole on the left, you can see that the 'exotic matter' forms a thin, spherical shell. Since this diagram is a 2-dimensional representation of the 3-dimensional spatial geometry of the wormhole, it appears as this black circle here. However, the shell of the 'exotic matter' has a negative mass and positive surface pressure."

Tosh stopped and looked around at the circle of lost faces. Out of the entire team, it appeared that only Jack had any possible comprehension of what she was talking about - and most likely even that was just barely.

"Tosh, in English please, most of us don't speak this jargon," Owen complained on everyone else's behalf. It was often fascinating to watch Toshiko work with her gadgets and to listen to her elaborate explanations, but half the time he couldn't make out what she was saying.

She flushed in embarrassment and, after apologising, took a deep breath and tried to explain her theory in more simple terms.

"The negative mass ensures that the throat of the wormhole stays outside the horizon and the positive surface pressure prevents it from collapsing, which makes it theoretically possible to pass through it," she finished, and sat down waiting for the inevitable questions.

"So what we saw was another Universe?" Owen asked. "But we didn't see a wormhole, we just saw a mist."

"It's still the best explanation we have. Well done, Tosh, excellent job!" Jack praised her.

"So if that wormhole is there, is it possible that something's crossed over to our Universe but didn't quite get here, or that Saxon's ring went over there?" Gwen asked, which caused Jack to pause for a moment, a pensive expression crossing his face, before shaking his head.

"I don't know. For now, we're going to work with the theory that the wormhole's causing the Rift activity," Jack told them and then turned to Owen. "How about your investigation into Saxon's DNA, find anything new?"

Of course he bloody well hadn't, Owen griped to himself. Jack had asked him this before they left the Hub, and it's not like he'd had much time since then to work on anything. However, he knew he couldn't say this to the Captain without getting into another meaningless spit fight.

"No, nothing so far," he opted to answer instead. "There might be the possibility that he stored his DNA somewhere to be cloned, who knows? No-one has ever proved that clones don't have exactly the same personality. Still, what he'd be using Rift energy for, I have no idea. Maybe as a booster...or perhaps he was somehow trying to duplicate his life-energy in an attempt to resurrect himself."

Owen knew that he was only speculating at the moment, and not really giving any useful information backed up by scientific theories like Tosh. But he had some ideas and needed to bounce them around with someone. Jack wasn't stopping him in any case, so he kept speculating for a while, before getting bored of listening to his own voice and trailing off into silence. Glancing over at Jack, he realised that the Captain hadn't heard a single word. He wasn't just giving Owen space to talk, he was genuinely out of it, off in his own world, totally spaced out on them. Ever since the Saxon widow showed up, Jack had been acting strange and worried. Owen wondered if the Captain was thinking about that year of hell he had told them existed for him but not for them, although he had never elaborated any further than that, or if maybe he was merely daydreaming about his Tea-boy.

"Oi, Harkness!" Owen shouted in Jack's face, which finally startled Jack and snapped him out of it. "Are you listening?"

"Of course I am," Jack answered testily.

"So do you agree with me then?" Owen asked again, with a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Yeah, sure," Jack said absent-mindedly, waving at the room to keep going with their reports.

"Good, so Ianto can throw some TNT into the wormhole, Tosh can round up a couple of grenades to blow up the residents of the cells and then we can all have sex with Myfanwy," Owen said brightly, to the horror of Gwen and the embarrassment of Tosh. Jack, however, just nodded.

"Ok, great," Jack said, still looking distracted. But after a moment, he seemed to come back to himself and frowned at Owen. "Wait! What? No…"

"See, you weren't listening," Owen bristled, pleased to be proven right. "I was pointing out theories about Saxon."

"And the time will come when Saxon will reign again. A time when you shall be ready with the Potion of Life, and the catalyst, the final biometrical signature, which will be my imprint on the one who swore to me until death do us part," Ianto read from a small book in a priest-like voice. Suddenly the attention of everyone in the room was on him. No-one had noticed him re-entering the Conference room. In Owen's opinion, it was really spooky how Ianto could walk absolutely silently, with such light, cat-like steps. No-one noticed Ianto when he really didn't want to be noticed.

"That's why I hate superstitions," Owen complained. "Because where there is a superstition, there is Ianto reading from the Bible, being the Voice of Doom."

"'S not the Bible, it's 'The Secret Book of Saxon'," Ianto said, tossing the small diary towards Owen on the table. "Lucy Saxon copied it before they gave her the ring."

"How did you find it?" Jack asked, pleasantly surprised that his Office boy had outsmarted most of them again, and had done the efficient work while they were all sitting around still speculating.

"Went to the last place she stayed in Cardiff, while she was waiting for the Rift to power," Ianto informed them with his best poker face, although his voice did betray some smugness that Owen wished he could wipe from the boy. "Everyone has to sleep somewhere."

"So we're now sure that they were trying to resurrect him using the Rift, not clone him," Jack summarised the meeting so far. "OK, Tosh, I know it looks like they didn't succeed, but I need that conclusively confirmed. Try to find any further instances of strange energy. And bring me whatever more you can find out about the wormhole, I'm starting to think that the two things are connected. Owen, you take some samples of Lucy's blood and then call the Broadfell Psychiatric Prison Hospital and tell them we have one of their patients, we have no more need of Lucy."

"Jack, you can't just chuck her away like that," Gwen protested instantly, not agreeing with treating a human being like some kind of tool. She seemed to have forgotten that the woman was the reason for the partial destruction of Cardiff, not to mention helping her husband in whatever it was he had done - Jack had always been a bit vague on this topic.

"OK, Gwen, you can be the one to tell her that we're sending her back there," Jack answered her, crossing his arms on the table in front of himself. "Seeing as Torchwood obviously hasn't managed to kill your compassion yet. Now, back to the reports, did you manage to sort out the matter with the police about the Weevil attacks and deaths after the Rift activity?"

Oh, the Weevil attack…Owen had forgotten about it with all that had happened, but it wasn't his task to work on, it was Gwen and Ianto's. After the Rift activity and the quake, some of the Weevils had become crazed and feral. In the end, Torchwood had rounded them up and put them back in the cells, sedating them until they calmed down - but not before there were a few deaths in the region.

"Gwen talked to the police and prepared the report," Ianto started to explain. "I faked the post-mortem examination reports. I even wrote an article in the local newspaper about the deaths being due to a gang war. The people whose deaths couldn't be explained by being in a gang, I explained as being innocent victims. Left a few weapons around the bodies, and ret-conned the pathologist, so he wouldn't remember writing a report about suspicious deaths. "

Ianto finished his report, before Gwen even had the time to open her mouth to say that she had talked to the police and the deaths had been explained away as gang war. In Owen's opinion, it was quite innovative. They usually used the excuse of a terrorist attack, but he supposed the citizens were bound to start asking themselves who would target Cardiff so frequently if they used it too often. Jack nodded, satisfied, while Owen looked disturbed but impressed with Ianto.

"You're a cold bastard, Ianto Jones," he said, whistling. Sometimes he thought that the Tea-boy needed a therapist. And not just the 'my girlfriend died and I'm now shagging the man who put a bullet through her head' kind of therapist, but the 'I'm only twenty-five and already have a list with the ten best ways to dispose of a body' kind of therapist.

"Just doing my job, in between making coffee and working on a list of the most painful ways to kill you," Ianto said curtly, and started to collect empty coffee mugs, before turning to leave the room now that his job was done.

"Are you still human, or have you computerised yer brain for more efficiency?" Owen muttered, not quietly enough so that it wouldn't be heard. It was out of his mouth before he could stop it and then it was too late to call it back.

It seemed the comment was almost enough to crumble Ianto's façade, especially considering that he had already been acting a bit off these last couple of days. Owen could see his shoulders stiffen and straighten up, making his posture even more strung up than it already was. Owen mentally kicked himself for his lack of thought, while Jack was throwing daggers with his eyes across the table at him. The girls muttered a disappointed 'Owen,' in unison.

"Shit, mate, I'm sorry," Owen cursed and tried to apologise – well, that would have to be enough, because there was no way he was going to do the whole 'group hugs' kind of apology.

"Ianto, we need to talk," Jack said, when everyone was awkwardly trying to be the first one out of the room, but not wanting it to be noticed. "Everyone else, you have your tasks."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: First I want to thank to Brownbug, mericat and Torchwood Cardiff for their reviews. Sadly they are the only three reviewers to the last chapter. I want to also say a very special THANK YOU to mericat who is a new reviewer and read and reviewed the whole story in three days. That was great and kept me going with reviews when no one else who read it gave any feedback. **

**Another special thank you to Brownbug who is my wonderful beta and puts up with all my grammar errors and moaning. **

**On another note, I hope any people who live in Manchester will excuse me if there are any inaccuracies with roads and timing but I had to work with Google maps since I've never been to Manchester before. Now if this was situated in London I wouldn't have any excuse. Moreover, I had to work with Google map 2012, and it sure had changed since 1973.**

**Another note, I have spotted some plot holes and trying to fill them up, but I'm sure that there are a lot more in this story that I can't detect, because I'm rubbish in avoiding plot holes, so if you see any don't feel shy to poke your finger into it and shout 'Plot hole!' It will help me fill it up.**

* * *

><p>In the end, the impressive, action-movie effect of their mad dash towards the door was somewhat ruined by their reluctance to emerge into the foul weather outside. Both of them stood at the station's entrance and watched with dismay as the heavy rain beat down on the concrete ground and splashed into muddy puddles. The Master was trying to calculate how fast he would have to run towards the car to keep himself as dry as possible. It didn't take him long to realise that no matter how fast he ran, or how low he kept himself, he would never reach the Cortina soon enough to keep from ending up looking like a drowned rat. Nothing for it, he thought, preparing for the uncomfortable run through the teeming water. The sooner he did it, the sooner he could try to get over it.<p>

The swish of a long coat announced the arrival of the Doctor next to them at the door, and the Master heard him take a deep breath, sniffing at the air.

"Ah, the smell of the fresh English rain," he said wistfully. The Master wondered what freshness the Doctor was talking about. It was typical of the fool's optimistic nature, something he was barely able to stand at the best of times.

The younger, albeit older-looking Doctor, joined them at the door and appeared quite put out, screwing up his face at the sight of the pouring rain. At least this one looked a bit more realistic - probably because he was tied to this place and particular decade, much like the Master, and wasn't stupidly nostalgic about it all.

"Is it raining again?" he asked. It was amazing the amount of obviously idiotic questions the old fool could come up with sometimes, the Master thought. He was tempted to smack the man on the back of his head, but knew that it would look quite strange if he did. After all, this version of the Doctor looked a great deal older than him, and the UNIT papers he held proclaimed him to be the one in charge at the moment.

"No, 'course not. Why would it be rainin' in Manchester, of all places?" He opted for sarcasm instead, as a way to show how he felt about the Doctor's stupid questions. "That's just the gods pissing down on us."

Gene Hunt turned around to him, pushing him out of the door and towards the car park, getting him immediately wet with the first step he took into the heavy rain.

"Yer such a cheerful sod, aren't ya, Tyler?" Gene said, keeping the conversation running. He followed the Master out, not looking all that bothered by the water that was starting to soak through his clothes.

"Yes, because there's so many things to elevate my mood," he growled at Gene. "My life is just one big picture of flowers and pink candyfloss clouds."

"You should take what you can get, Boss," Chris tried to make him see the bright side of things. Opening the back door of the car, Chris slid in and on to the seat. "After that bad whack on the head, you might not have been that lucky."

"Thank you, Chris, 'cos that makes me feel so much better," the Master muttered, following Chris's example and sliding on to the front passenger seat. He shook the water from his wet shoulders and hair, frowning.

"That's all right, Boss, I'm glad to help," Chris said cheerfully behind him.

"That's called sarcasm, Chris."

"What is?" Chris asked, sounding confused.

"What I just said to you," the Master scoffed. "It's called sarcasm."

By that point, everyone had followed them to escape the rain. The Guv was behind the wheel, and the two Doctors were next to Chris on the back seat. Ray and Annie were left to follow in one of the plonk's cars. After the Master's last comment, the car was full with amused silence, as all the occupants waited for DC Skelton to understand what had just been said. However, if they were hoping for any sort of big reaction, they were all destined to be disappointed. Chris's only comment was barely more than a single breath, which came out sounding like, "Oh!"

The Guv took off from the parking lot in true Hunt fashion, planning to follow the best routes he knew around the streets towards the Manchester Food College. Of course, it was too much to hope that things would run smoothly. The moment the Guv exited Bootle Street and tried to take A34, they found out that the entire junction with Oxford Street and Portland Road was blocked by a lorry accident. There goes our best route, the Master thought, listening to Gene Hunt cursing at the incompetent plonks who couldn't do their jobs and keep the streets clear for emergencies. From there, they had to turn into side streets, most of which were one way, and then go across to the other side of A34 to reach Chorton Street and the College. Not that it seemed to bother Gene too much - he didn't bother to slow down, even in the side streets with barely enough space for the Cortina to fit between the parked cars.

Despite Gene's breakneck speed, it still took the team over ten minutes to reach their destination and by then, both Doctors were looking decidedly sick and worried.

It wasn't too difficult for the Master to figure out the reason they looked so green around the gills - after all, it had taken him a lot of time and effort to get used to Gene's driving as well. The reason they both looked worried was easily explained as well. They had already wasted enough time in working out the possible place where Jo Grant might be held, and the even minor delay from the road blockage must be causing both Doctors a lot of worry for the girl's wellbeing. If she was really being held inside an industrial freezer, there was only so much time that the human body could withstand the below zero temperature.

* * *

><p>The pacing around did help Jo keep herself warm for a while, but it wasn't a long term solution as the blood in her body started to cool down and the circulation slowed again. From a certain point onwards, it didn't make much difference whether she was lying down or moving. Besides, moving had become too painful. Logically, she knew she should keep moving, despite the pain in her limbs, because at least it kept her body in motion and the blood circulating. But her limbs were heavy and painful and she was too tired to bother about standing up and walking around the place. Maybe if she still had some hope of finding a way out of this place, she would have forced herself to move, but she had exhausted every option that was available to her in this place and nothing she had tried had moved the door of the freezer even an inch.<p>

Jo wasn't someone who gave up easily, but even she could see now that she had to admit defeat. She pulled her thin jacket more tightly around her, although she didn't really feel all that cold any more. Even her shivers had almost stopped. It was something Jo knew she should be concerned about, but it felt much too nice to have a break from feeling so cold and from trying to escape through the metal door. All she really wanted to do right now was to sleep and curl into the false feeling of warm and peace. She tried to move and shake herself awake, because her sluggish brain was deceiving her with that peaceful place. She wasn't home in her bed - if she let herself go to sleep now, she knew she wasn't going to wake up ever again.

Trying desperately to pull her sleeves over her hands to warm them up, she noticed that she couldn't move them. They didn't hurt any more, which couldn't be good, but they wouldn't respond to the commands that her mind was trying to give them. The nails and the tips of her fingers had become deep blue, almost purple, and she couldn't move them more than a twitch. It should have scared her, but she couldn't muster the effort to think rationally enough to care.

Looking up, Jo fancied that she could see the cold air crystallising into tiny snowflakes and she twitched her blue-tinted lips into a ghost of a smile. It was an illusion, and a deadly illusion at that, lulling her into the false tranquillity of an eternal sleep. She should be fighting it, she should be thinking of the Doctor and what he would think when he found her if she had given up and died. But it was so beautiful and enticing and she was so tired and cold that she didn't even want to fight it any more. Her grannie's voice came to her, singing one of the songs she always used to sing at Christmas. Jo thought that if she closed her eyes, she could imagine that she was back with her grannie at Christmas, just like when she was ten, making a snow man and listening to her grandmother singing, instead of dying here in an industrial freezer. It was so much easier than trying to fight to stay awake and move - all she had to do was just let go and listen to the song. I'm sorry, Doctor, she thought.

* * *

><p>The Rani had fled the boat house angrily, although not in too much of a hurry. She still managed to save some of the experiments that she had begun. The only things she had to abandon really were a few pieces of tech and some commonly available chemicals. It still didn't make her any more pleased with the situation and the fact that she hadn't taken into account the risk of running into that Detective. Someone from this time shouldn't be clever enough to ruin her carefully crafted plans. Despite his claims to be the Master, the Rani still wasn't ready to believe that it was indeed the other Time Lord. Although, she wouldn't put it past that imbecile, the Master, to show up in another incarnation and to muck up her experiments. Her main problem was that, if it was him, she couldn't work out his agenda in this situation. It didn't look like he was here to try and take over the planet, or even to find that ring that his other incarnation – the one who was helping her - was trying to locate. Maybe he was trying to take over the law enforcement on the planet. She shook her head and chuckled at the thought. Still, no time for lame jokes, she still had work to do before that old fool, the Doctor, came and discovered her.<p>

She didn't have time to collect every single chemical from her experiment, but that wasn't too worrying, she could leave them there. The chemicals were safely stocked up in the college's industrial freezer, together with the fertilized eggs, so if she needed to come back for them later, she could. Now she needed to deal with the Master, who she was sure wouldn't allow her to leave the planet without demanding her to take him somewhere off the planet in her TARDIS, or want her to keep her word and give him the component necessary to replace the one the Doctor had stolen from his ship a while ago.

The Master was sitting in the school's reception area in one of the stuffed chairs. It was the time of the year when the college was on holiday, but it still should have had at least the bare minimum of personnel. The Master had most likely scared them away or hypnotized them into leaving. There were two of his goons outside, but they knew her and feared her as much as they feared the Master. They wouldn't dare do anything anyway, especially not after the rumours that the Master was responsible for the death of their mates in the gang, they would probably be glad to get rid of him.

"My dear Rani," the Master greeted her with a curt nod of his head, but didn't rise from his seated position. "I do believe you ran into the same troublesome DI that I did."

"Yes, indeed," she replied sourly, trying to convey with every sharp word and movement that she didn't have time to chat with him and that his presence was unwelcome. "He told me that he's one of your future incarnations."

She approached the cabinet that was propped against the wall on her right and opened the door. The cabinet opened on to something that looked much larger than the normal contents of a medicine cabinet. It also did not hold the tubs and bottles one would expect. Instead, it opened on to a vast room, which appeared even larger than the room they were currently in.

When she passed over the threshold of the cabinet she sensed the Master moving from the chair behind her. He was probably making sure that she wasn't going to run on him without giving him what he wanted. Something sharp touched her skin as he came to her and held her upper arm with one hand while his other hand was between their bodies.

"Not so fast, my dear," he hissed in her ear. His voice was level and unthreatening, but coming from him it was no less malicious. "We have unfinished business here. I still have to find my ring, as you well know, and your aid is still required."

The desire to turn around and plant her knee in his groin was really tempting for the Rani. She was slowly starting to lose her patience with the Master. She was already annoyed enough by her encounter with the Manchester DI, and the Master's annoying persistence in keeping her company at the moment didn't help her mood. And that was before he went and threatened her with a knife in her back. However, she wouldn't lose her temper in front of him- it would give him far too much satisfaction. Turning around calmly, with an acerbic smile plastered across her face, she held up two glasses of wine and offered one to the Master.

* * *

><p>The Master expected to find the school buzzing with students and activity, but he found the College almost devoid of life. There was only the occasional devoted student in the library, or the ones late with their essay and assignment work, as well as the unfortunate staff who were on duty. It seemed that most of the students and staff did everything possible to clear out of the College during the holidays. It was a good thing, because it meant he didn't have to put too much effort into emptying the school. It only took him a few minutes of concentration and some thought-projection, suggesting to every single member of the school that they had something more urgent to do elsewhere. It was a bit disappointing, actually, because it wasn't much of a challenge this way. However, at least he now had more time to prepare for the real challenge ahead. He was sure that his confrontation with the Rani would prove extremely stimulating, and he would enjoy it immensely.<p>

After sending everyone out, the only thing that was left to do was to wait for the Rani to arrive and to try to get away in her TARDIS. He knew that she would be reeling from the fact that her experiment had gone to waste with the arrival of the two different incarnations of the Doctor, not to mention having that human DI and his alcoholic boss on her case. It was pretty amazing that a handful of humans had been able to work out the games that he and the Rani had put into play. The Master had to admit, it was annoying being almost outsmarted by humans. But he always enjoyed a good game and he was all about fair play, even with humans. The Rani once told him that he was too polite in this regeneration to have any success, because he didn't like to play too dirty and always liked to give a fair chance to the opposite party.

Maybe she was right, but that polite spark in him didn't mean he wouldn't do everything possible to remove an obstacle should one come in his way. He might give the obstacle a fair chance, but essentially the outcome of the game would be the same as ever. Having to remove and outsmart not only the Doctor, but also these humans, and especially the DI and his sheriff, would only make the game that much more interesting. At the moment, however, his thoughts were on the ring and the fact that it had managed to evade him again. He had hired all his goons to get the ring for him, after receiving the signal for Time Lord technology from the shop. But it seemed someone had already paid some of the goons double to get it for himself. Now he needed to get rid of the Rani, not to mention Doctor's companion he had stashed in the freezer and who was proving most unhelpful. When he had instructed one of the junkies to kidnap the girl, he had hoped that the one who had taken the ring was the Doctor, and that with a bit of hypnosis his assistant would spill the beans. That didn't seem to be the case. Ms Grant either didn't know anything or she was becoming resistant to his hypnosis. So he locked her away, and that was the problem with the companion solved. He had killed a couple of the gang members in his rage and was now trying to cooperate with the Rani, in the hope that she knew something about his ring and that they could work symbiotically. Too late he had realised that the Rani was preoccupied only with her own work and had no idea where his ring was. So the only thing left now was to get rid of the Rani and fly her TARDIS in pursuit of the ring. He knew that he had burnt through his regenerations recklessly and was in his last. The actual purpose of the ring was to store a Time Lord DNA in a special time locked capsule and he needed it.

Finally, just when he thought that he was going to lose his patience and was going to have to try and break into the TARDIS, the Rani showed up. She had taken her time - probably trying to save as much of her experiments as she could. He greeted her politely but coldly, without giving her the honour of standing up for her, only moving to face her better and lace his hands over the knee that he had lifted and placed over his other leg. He inquired about the trouble she had with running into the same DI that he had the misfortune to deal with. To his utter shock, she told him the police officer claimed to be himself. Understandably, she was not pleased with the fact, but neither was he. He would need to look into this matter later, after he had dealt with the Rani.

The Master watched as she went to the cabinet against the wall and opened it to reveal a vast chamber-like room with a big column in the middle. Jumping quickly to his feet, the Master reached the Rani with only a couple of strides from his long legs. He took her by the arm and carefully took a blade from his pocket. He wasn't much of a fan of human weapons, but his intention wasn't to actually kill her now, just to stop her from leaving. He still needed her aid. He could feel the Rani's body stiffen for a moment against his, and then relaxing a moment later. He didn't need to read her mind to understand what she was thinking, she was visibly annoyed. Then she turned around and offered him a glass of wine.

"Really clever, my dear," the Master answered, smiling. He took his glass and sat back down on the chair, pouring the contents of his glass into a nearby plant. "You think I will drink anything offered me by you? You underestimate me."

The Rani smile never faltered while watching him getting rid of his drink. She approached the chair with graceful, cat-like moves and sat on one of the arms.

"Oh, you think I would be that obvious?" she asked in a sultry voice, taking a sip from her glass. "You are the one who underestimates me, and you just wasted a perfectly fine wine."

She moved too fast for the Master to counteract and something was jabbed into his thigh.

"I have no more use of you," the Rani told him and went to her ship.

Unable to move, the Master watched her retreating back and the wavering image of the dematerialising cabinet. Whatever it was that she had injected him with took hold way too fast, the world starting to waver and dim in front of his eyes. The last thought he had before the darkness overtook him was that he was going to find the ring and then the Rani and make her pay.

* * *

><p>Running into the College building, 'A' division was alarmed to find it completely deserted but for one body of a well-dressed gentleman, slumped into one of the high leather chairs. They didn't know if the place was deserted because the people had left, or because something happened to them, the same way it had obviously happened to this gentleman. Some of the people in the team recognised the man from the station and the row he had with Phyllis at the reception desk the other day. The Doctor, however, recognised the man with the goatee and immaculate black suit as the Master, and looking at DI Tyler it seemed to him as if he had as well.<p>

"He's just unconscious," the pin-striped Doctor said, as if to reassure the Manchester detective.

"Yeah, I'm still here aren't I?" Sam said, indicating with the tone of his voice that the Doctor was again stating the obvious. "If 'e was dead, I'd disappear."

"OK, Tyler, put some handcuffs on this one and get him into the car," Gene Hunt came over to them, instantly issuing commands. "Chris, Ray go and see if you can find the girl in the freezer."

The UNIT Doctor was torn between rushing to rescue Jo, and making sure that the Master was safely contained. However, in the end he decided that the two policemen could handle finding his companion and he didn't need to rush to save the damsel in distress. So instead he decided to stay and make sure they didn't let the Master loose again. He knew that it was going to be quite a battle with DCI Hunt to take the Master into UNIT custody, but he would do it, because only they could hold him on Earth. Maybe Torchwood as well, but he wasn't going to give anything to Torchwood.

He watched as Sam Tyler backed away and argued with his superior officer about not touching the unconscious man, and couldn't help his amusement.

"Sorry, Guv, but I can't touch him," Sam said, backing away and holding his hands up.

"What do you mean, you can't touch 'im?" Gene asked incredulously.

"I mean, I can't," Sam shouted, frustrated. "I can't, as in big bang, end of the world coming if I touch him. That man over there's me!"

The Doctor expected a big fight, for which he wasn't sure that they had time, so he was mentally preparing to have to break it up. But Hunt was obviously more than used to his DI's creepy comments, because he just rolled his eyes.

"I think my DI just cracked his last marble," Gene commented, with a touch of resignation. "All right, Tyler go find the girl. Doctor, you can help me with our sleeping beauty."


	22. Chapter 22

**DISCLAIMER: All I own is Blue Gillespie CD signed by Gareth. Sadly it doesn't count as me having the rights over Torchwood, Doctor Who or Life on Mars.**

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. This one is not essential for the story, it's just a filler but I just couldn't move through the story before I fainally wrote this chapter. It was a right pain to write because I usually don't like filler chapters and was killing me to write one. **I want to tank my beta Brownbug for her help.**

* * *

><p><em>I would be the one to make our dreams come true<em>

_I ain't too proud of all the struggles_

_And the hard times we've been through_

_When this cold world comes between us_

_Please tell me you'll be brave_

_'Cause I can realize the danger when forgiveness fades away_

_If you don't love me - lie to me_

_'Cause baby you're the one thing I believe_

_Let it all fall down around us, if that's what's meant to be_

_Right now if you don't love me baby - lie to me_

_'Lie To Me'- Bon Jovi_

After issuing the team their tasks and asking Ianto to stay, Jack watched the others awkwardly trying to get out before someone had to apologise or comment. The whole time, Ianto kept himself busy, unnecessarily fussing over the papers and mugs on the table, his head down. He wasn't the only one nervous or uncomfortable, however. Jack was already questioning his decision to hold Ianto up and talk to him. What was he going to say to him? It wasn't as if he was really doing anything wrong – well, nothing apart from being detached and cold towards Jack for the last few days. He hadn't even offered to stay with Jack in the Hub, or invited him to his flat. Still, maybe it was something that would pass soon and he should just let it play itself out, allowing Ianto to come back to him in his own time.

"Sir?" Ianto asked, providing him with a perfect opening to their conversation. Well, that was it then, there wasn't any going back.

Jack sat on the chair and invited Ianto to sit next to him. He wanted to pull the Welshman on to his lap playfully, or take his hand, but knew better than that. It might have been OK if Ianto had appeared distressed or nervous. However, Ianto had clamped down on his emotions instead, and his face looked blank and detached, his body language warning Jack to restrain his tactile nature and to keep his distance

"You keep calling me 'Sir'…" It was a statement of fact rather than a question, but it still demanded an explanation.

"You are my superior officer, Sir," Ianto answered levelly, not giving any indication why his recent behaviour towards his lover had suddenly changed from passionate to cold.

Jack bristled and he felt hot anger bubbling inside him. He knew that if he wanted to sort this out with Ianto he could not give in to his temper. However, for all his two hundred years of life, he had never learned to reign in his emotions. Two centuries of life should have made him wise, or so the philosophers and intellectuals would have him believe. Having been there and done that, Jack knew better - they had just made him bitter.

"That's a load of bollocks, Ianto, and you know it!" he shouted, jumping out of his chair and causing the young man to step back, startled. "You only call me 'Sir' when you are pissed off at me, or naked in my bed and handcuffed to it. Right now, you're dressed and most certainly not in my bed, so spit it out. What's your problem?"

Leaning against the table, he folded his arms and regarded his lover coolly. He could sense the nervous energy coursing through Ianto. The young Welshman was eyeing the door longingly, probably wishing he could bolt through it, to hide in the archives or the tourist office for the rest of the day. However, Jack wasn't going to allow that to happen. They couldn't continue on like this any longer, it was going to start affecting the team as well at some point. Discreetly, he moved around the table and near the door, effectively blocking any retreat.

Then he quirked an eyebrow questioningly at Ianto, trying to prompt the man to talk. Instead, Ianto started to meticulously rearrange the papers into the folders that the rest had left in their haste to get out of the room. He filed the pages in a proper immaculate order, and then placed the folders on the table in a straight line. After that, he collected the coffee mugs and, with a meaningful gesture towards the door, indicated to Jack that he had work to do and should take the mugs to the kitchen. Frustrated, Jack reached for the mugs and snatched them none too gently from his hands.

"This can wait, sentient mould is not going to take over the world if you don't wash them immediately," Jack said, trying to joke and lighten up the mood. It usually worked between the two of them when there was tension, one would joke, then the other would pretend to be cross about the joke and that would be the end of it. However, it seemed today wasn't going to be one of those days.

"What do you want me to say, Sir?" Ianto asked evenly. He let go of the mugs and stepped defensively away from Jack.

Sighing, Jack banged the mugs down on the table, not caring if they chipped or broke in the process. It was obvious Ianto was going to be uncooperative and stubborn and what he had fondly imagined as being a quick chat was now going to be a tedious discussion. Jack wondered what had got into his lover's head, because it wasn't only the appearance of Mrs Saxon that had created this tension in him. Ever since the debacle with the alien meat their relationship had been strained and now maybe it had got to a breaking point. Still, as far as Jack was concerned, the current issue was Lucy Saxon and the effect she had on some of his team, and most particularly on Ianto.

"How can I trust you again, Ianto?" Jack said finally, looking the other man straight in the eyes. Or, more accurately, trying to look him straight in the eyes, since the young Welshman was avoiding his gaze. "You deceived me once by hiding a Cyberman in my basement; I forgave you and trusted you again. Then you go and betray me again, refusing to stop the others opening the Rift, even helping them. Still I forgave you. But tell me, Ianto Jones, how can I be sure that you're not going to do it again?"

It was rare to see Ianto looking uncertain around him, but at that moment his young lover did not even attempt to look at him. Suddenly the points of his shiny polished shoes seemed to hold much more interest for Ianto than Jack's face or eyes. Jack could see that the man was uncomfortable and probably feeling quite a bit guilty, because his eyes darted everywhere around the room except in front of him, where Jack stood. He thought they were past that guilt.

"I don't know, Jack," Ianto murmured quietly, his voice almost inaudible. And this, more than anything else, made Jack think that the other man did feel guilt, maybe not over the Rift, but for some other reason. Because even while he was hiding his Cyber-girlfriend and after she was found out, Ianto had never murmured. He had faced Jack fair and square and told him what he thought to his face. Was he planning on helping Lucy Saxon now? Or something else entirely?

"Do you know what Einstein has said about the definition of insanity?" Jack asked, suddenly trying to lighten up the mood a bit and let Ianto know that he wasn't accusing him of anything, not yet at least.

"Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result," Ianto said more boldly, finally lifting his head to look at Jack.

Sighing, Jack relaxed his posture and leaned slightly over the table to reach Ianto and pull him a bit closer to his body. He put a finger under Ianto's chin and propped it up to make him look into his eyes. He was still annoyed with Ianto about the way he'd been acting the last few days, especially over the lack of trust he had in his lover and boss, by refusing to come and talk to Jack about what was bothering him so much. Maybe Ianto had his reasons, maybe Jack hadn't been the most sympathetic lover or commanding officer there could be, but he still liked to think that his team could come and talk to him. Ianto moved out of his reach, uncomfortable with the touch. The young Welshman rarely showed much affection outside the bedroom, but his actions were still frustrating for Jack, who was a very hands-on and tactile person. Jack thrived on touch, and Ianto's lack of physical affection made him want to growl at the man and demand to know what his problem was.

"Maybe I'm insane then," Jack whispered in Ianto's ear, before releasing his head and backing off again, sitting in one of the chairs this time, trying to not loom over the young man and provide a more equal ground for talking. A lover talking to a lover, not an employee with an employer.

It seemed that the move relaxed Ianto a bit, because he finally straightened up and looked more confident, as if he had finally found his true self again. He took a look at the coffee mugs on the table but obediently left them where they were. Instead, he brushed down his jacket and checked the knot of his tie, ensuring that his suit of armour was immaculately in place before he faced Jack, ready for the new battle. Jack watched him in weary resignation. _So Ianto was going to be stubborn and unreasonable, as if he didn't have that from Gwen enough already._

"Does the appearance of Mrs Saxon means you are going to swan off with the Doctor again?" Ianto asked, more boldly than he had spoken through the whole confrontation so far.

"What do you want me to say, Ianto?" Jack said, heaving an exasperated sigh. He wondered how many times they had to have this same conversation. "I already told you, I came back for you."

The Welshman pulled sharply away from the table and turned around to stare through the window of the conference room at the workstations of his colleagues. His shoulders were tense and Jack could see the tell-tale indications of worry in his straight posture. He was probably preparing to slip on the mask of the perfect distant butler. Well, not this time, Jack thought.

"No, Jack you said you came back for all of us," Ianto said calmly.

Way too calmly for Jack's liking. He knew that Ianto could get like this - unemotional and detached - when he was really hurting and wanted to protect himself. Jack stood up and went behind him, taking him by his shoulders and spinning him around. As he had predicted, Ianto's face was a completely blank mask, his vacant gaze almost inhuman against his pale skin.

"Oh no, you're not going all blank and spacing out on me," Jack hissed, shaking the other man for good measure. "Scream, shout, be angry or anything you like, but don't go all blank on me."

"I saw the CCTV footage from the vaults," Ianto said quietly, still keeping his expression vacant as if he had resigned himself to what he was about to hear and wouldn't like it. "And I saw you watching Gwen on the CCTV, brooding over her when she refused to retcon Rhys."

"Oh, so this is all about Gwen, is it?" Jack couldn't help but shout, releasing the younger man. "Only that's not all of it, is it? So what is it exactly, Ianto? Because jealousy doesn't become you!"

"Maybe it's not because of Gwen, maybe Gwen isn't the whole problem, but she is a big part of it, Jack!" Ianto almost shouted back. Jack could see the effort the other man was putting in to keep himself calm and his temper in check.

"Don't make it about Gwen," Jack spat out, aggravated. When he started this, when he asked Ianto to stay and talk, he never imagined that it would become a spitfire with low blows. But now that he had started, his short temper was gradually becoming out of control. "Here I thought you were jealous of the Doctor."

Jack really couldn't see what his younger lover's problem was. He hated this narrow minded century sometimes. Why was it so hard for someone to understand that a person could lo…want more than one person? And they thought that they were civilised and open minded. He wished at least the people who knew him here, and knew his origins, would understand that for Jack Harkness it was entirely possible to want two people without feeling that one of them was only a replacement for the other. Of course, he'd rather have them together, but somehow he knew Ianto wouldn't appreciate that kind of comment at the moment.

Ianto started going through the room, furiously rearranging chairs and objects that didn't really need rearranging, the simple task giving him something to do that didn't involve hitting Jack in the jaw.

"I have no right to be jealous of the Doctor." He didn't even look at the Captain while muttering this almost inaudibly.

"Damn right, you don't! I never promised you exclusiveness."

Jack regretted his words almost the moment he shouted them out, but it was already too late, he had let his temper get the better of him once again. It wasn't so much the words that he regretted, as it was the way he spat them at his young lover. Jack had never been good at keeping a level head during a confrontation, but Ianto was usually there to calm him down with a reproachful remark or a quietly bashful comment. Right now, however, Ianto was the reason for Jack's fried nerves and there was no one to cool him down. He knew that before too long he was going to say something really bad, but he'd never been good at discussing relationships anyway, and neither was Ianto, so it seemed. Although, despite the cool outer façade the Welshman kept as a wall against the world, Jack knew that behind all that there was a sea of passion raging inside the boy.

"Don't you think I know that?" Ianto hissed back. He abandoned the pretence of sorting out a room that didn't really need sorting out and turned sharply around to face Jack again. "I'm not a love sick teenager, Jack. Of course I never kidded myself that you were going to propose me just because now we occasionally eat before we fuck."

Jack was startled to hear Ianto curse; there were only really rare occasions in which Ianto cursed. Usually Ianto had to be very pissed off to raise his voice, let alone start cursing. His first instinct was to scold the boy for the bad language, but he knew that it was only going to sound like he was patronising him. His second instinct was anger. He barely stopped himself hitting the man. Still, he couldn't do it. Jack might never have been a nice person and could never keep a leash on his anger, but so far he had never hit a lover, unless the lover hit him first. The other feeling that battled inside Jack was one he was at least familiar with. He watched Ianto stand there in his immaculate suit, properly groomed and - despite the anger and shouting - totally unruffled. And all Jack wanted to do was ravish him thoroughly in a way that ensured he wouldn't be able to put that immaculate façade back together for quite a while to come. Startled, he realised that he was staring at Ianto intently and had not answered at all. Ianto, on the other hand, was staring back at him with a mixture of confusion, anger and need.

"Besides, if you start buying curtains, I'll definitely scarper," Ianto said with a smirk. "I'm not that kind of a guy anyway. Hate going to choose curtains."

"I don't have a house to put them in," Jack pointed out, already feeling a bit more light-hearted. If Ianto was going to make little jokes, it meant that the big storm was over and they were ready to settle things between them.

"Yeah, suppose they're not going to look very good on your office door," Ianto said thoughtfully. "Not very fashionable."

For a moment, Jack selfishly allowed himself to think that it was all over now and Ianto would just drop the subject, fire another witty joke at him and then everything would go back to normal. He was tired of having this argument over and over ever since he had come back, and having to constantly fend off questions of where he had been while travelling with the Doctor. Sometime, these pointless disagreements with Ianto made him wish he had stayed on board the TARDIS after all. He had told Ianto that he didn't want to go back to that time and that he wouldn't miss what he had here for the world, but in petty domestic moments like this he wished he could just vanish. For the first time in a long while, he missed John Hart, he would never make this kind of a scene. No, John would just round up the whole team instead. Jack almost smiled wistfully at the image.

"It's not that I expect exclusiveness, Jack." Ianto's annoyed tone of voice brought him back to bitter reality. "I don't expect you to go suddenly monogamous as long as I don't have to hear about it. But right inside the bloody Hub, Jack? And it's not someone that I don't know, or you won't see ever again. It's Gwen bloody Cooper and everyone can see it, even Lucy Saxon. I bet the team have a good laugh at my expense, the pathetic tea-boy that I am. So, either take both of you out of your misery and act upon it before she gets married or leave it be. Please, Jack save me some dignity."

Jack stood there gazing at Ianto, effectively speechless for probably the first time. He was sure he'd never heard Ianto say that much in one go in all the time he knew him. The usually quiet and unassuming young man was now angry, accusing and hitting right where it hurt. Still, he refused to answer, what could he say? That he didn't want Gwen? Of course he wanted her, everyone could see it and he wasn't oblivious to it, but he loved her too much to want to ruin her life just to have her. She still had a chance at a normal life and he was going to make her cling to it for as long as she could. But he couldn't say this to his lover, any more than he could tell him that he wanted a threesome with Ianto and Gwen.

"If the Doctor comes back, are you going to run off with him again?" Ianto asked in the end, seeing that Jack wasn't going to say anything more on the previous topic.

"So, back to the Doctor again?" Jack asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I wish I could reassure you Ianto, make you sleep better, but I won't lie to you. If the Doctor needs me, I'll go, I'll always go." He could see the other man's brow furrow with the pain of his hurt feelings. He walked the few steps that separated them and took Ianto by the wrist to make sure he wouldn't bolt out the door before Jack had finished.

However, Ianto didn't look like he was going to run this time. The lines on his face softened and he turned towards Jack. There was something in Ianto's eyes that Jack struggled to fully understand. Was it tenderness or desire? Love, perhaps? Or something completely different?

"Of course you'll go, cariad," Ianto said softly, brushing his hand briefly over Jack's shoulder. "If you don't go you won't be the Jack we know and admire. I'll never dream of stopping you, as long as I know that you'll always come back to us."

"You know I will."

Ianto only nodded, not saying anything. But the hard, angry look on his face was gone now and was replaced by his gentle, well-composed exterior. Not the forced one, but the calmness and comfort they felt around each other sometimes.

"So, Gwen Cooper," Ianto said again, but this time he used Gwen's name with amusement. "We can always ask her to join us. "

Jack actually laughed at this whole heartedly, even threw his head back for full effect and gave his most blindingly brilliant smile.

"You never cease to amaze me, Jones, Ianto Jones," he said, still laughing, using Ianto's first Bond-like introduction. "Although, there is one small problem with that - if we take Gwen she might want Rhys to come over as well."

"No, everyone has their limits," Ianto said, managing looking actually pained. "And I'm drawing my limits with Rhys."

Jack nodded, satisfied that he had managed to turn the conversation in a lighter direction, and if he had to be honest with himself, going his way. He hated to manipulate Ianto, but it was getting out of hand and he couldn't spare time for domestics with all that was going on.

"But that's not all, is it, Ianto?" Jack asked, trying to get back on to a more relevant topic. The topic they were supposed to discuss, because Jack was sure that Ianto was not a person who would let something like jealousy affect his work. And although the work wasn't affected yet, the Welshman was losing his nerve, even if Jack was the only one who had noticed it. If he couldn't make him talk now, something would explode soon.

"You don't trust me in the field any more," Ianto said, sagging in defeat. "I think I proved that I can hold my own in the field. Just a few days ago, I single-handedly turned the situation in our favour after getting out of my bonds and subduing the gang. So, why don't you trust me with the team Jack?"

It wasn't anger now that Jack could see in Ianto's eyes when he talked. The anger must have drained away with the other argument. Ianto could be really passionate, but just like a comet he burned hot, but fast and short. Now all Jack could see was the calm, grim determination that was so much more characteristic of the young Welshman. All of them had seen it. He wasn't like Owen, too hardened and tough to phase or scare, but once he got past his shock, Ianto was one of the most strongly driven and determined people the captain had ever seen. However, Jack was the one person in this place who could get under that resolve and make Ianto second-guess himself. And he was doing it now, staring at Ianto for a moment, long enough to make the other man doubt his assessment of the situation and his understanding of why he was left out of the field.

Jack's first instinct was to smirk at Ianto and ask why he thought Jack should trust him. Wasn't it just a few minutes ago that they argued about how Jack could start trusting Ianto again after all the deception on Ianto's part. But he knew that this wasn't the best thing to do if he wanted to mend the situation with his lover. He could see the fire in Ianto's eyes slowly extinguishing and realised that he had been silent too long, he had taken too much time, and now risked Ianto clamping down on his emotions and closing up on him again.

"Is it because you feel betrayed?" Ianto finally broke the silence between them and shaking Jack out of the funk he had sunk into. "Because I would never endanger the team willingly. Not again anyway. If you can't separate personal from work…"

Jack could swear that he could literally hear the clamps shutting down on Ianto's emotions the moment the other man's face became a blank mask again. Shit, Jack thought, that was exactly what he was trying to stop from happening.

"Will you stop making up your own explanations to things and actually come and talk to me when you feel insecure?" Jack asked, annoyed. It was one of the things he had to battle with when it came to Ianto. The man never talked about issues, just made up his own conclusions, which on a lot of occasions were completely wrong. Like the conclusion that Jack would drop him, the moment Gwen showed interest. "It's not about not trusting you, it's about me trying to protect you."

The Welshman tried to hide his emotions behind a mask, but Jack could hear the inelegant snort that Ianto let out, despite his back being turned to Jack. Abandoning all pretence about sorting out the room, Ianto circled the table and sat on the edge of it, in front of Jack, mirroring the positions they usually took during the peaceful late night conversations they had in the captain's office.

"Protecting me?" Ianto asked, incredulous. "You've never been too overly protective before, Jack, so why now all of a sudden do you feel the need to lock me away from the world?"

"Because if Lucy is trying to bring her husband back, he is dangerous, very dangerous," Jack said, but didn't really give a proper explanation to the question. He wasn't ready to talk about that year just yet. Maybe he never would, as with every secret he kept to himself, just to maintain the idea that he was keeping his team at arms length and not getting too involved.

Pulling his chair closer to the other man, Jack put one hand on Ianto's knee letting it linger there for a moment before it started to wander up Ianto's leg. Jack's other hand sneaked under the Welshman's shirt and moved around his stomach and to the small of his back.

"Everything on this job is dangerous, Jack," Ianto sighed and squirmed a bit at the touch of Jack's hand on his skin. But he didn't protest too much or pull away. It encouraged Jack that maybe things were getting settled between them. Hopefully Ianto's squirming was more about him being ticklish or finding it inappropriate when someone could walk in on them, rather than not liking his touch.

"Yes, but I'm not having you in the field, risking an encounter with the Master," Jack said sharply, and almost pulled his hands off Ianto's body. "I've seen you die at his hands once. I'm not watching it happen again."

"Jack, what do you mean you've seen me die?" Ianto inquired, confused, a slight frown starting to crease his brow. But Jack just hummed, not answering. His hands started moving around, loosening Ianto's tie and unbuttoning his shirt. "Jack!" Ianto said and tried to slap his hands away, but when they just moved to remove his suit jacket and roamed into his waistband, he sighed in defeat. "You're doing it again, Jack. You start saying something and then you decide you've said too much and just close off on me. I've told you so much about myself, but you never talk."

The only response from Jack was to pull his shirt out of his trousers and suck on his earlobe. From the sounds that came from Ianto, Jack was almost sure of his victory. But then the young man pulled forcefully away and pushed Jack's hands off him, starting to rearrange his appearance in a desperate need to look immaculate.

"Jack!" Ianto exclaimed indignantly. "I thought we were supposed to be talking."

Jack could see the smirk that Ianto couldn't suppress when he asked that question, he was enjoying it.

"We are talking."

"No, Jack, I'm talking, you're trying to distract me by removing my clothes."

Jack's hands stilled and he looked up at Ianto unapologetically, his gaze even held a bit of a challenge in his expression.

"Do you blame me?" Jack asked, smirking at Ianto and reaching for the young man again, this time pulling him from the table right into his lap. "The way you look in this suit…"

Ianto rolled his eyes before trying to pull free from Jack's grip and save himself some dignity. It wouldn't do for some of the others to come and see him sitting in Jack's lap in this dishevelled state. The captain just grinned at him, holding on tighter.

"Maybe I should start coming to work in jeans then?" Ianto smirked.

"Wouldn't work, I've seen you in jeans, you look positively edible in jeans," Jack commented. He licked the side of Ianto's neck but felt him stiffen in his grip and loosened it a fraction. "Sorry, wrong choice of words." Jack said softly and smiled in apology, finally letting the other man go.

The playfulness of the last couple of minutes did its job and the atmosphere inside the room became lighter. There was no longer the danger of something exploding or someone being hit by a flying object if they entered the room unprepared. However, Jack knew that he couldn't just keep it going like this, with light banter and innuendos. He had more questions that needed answers. And despite almost knowing what Lucy Saxon had talked about with Ianto, he needed to know how seriously Ianto was taking her.

"I don't think there's any point in asking what Mrs Saxon wanted from you," Jack said, bringing them back to the original purpose of this meeting. "I already know it will just be a waste of time. But, tell me, Ianto, did you ever take on board anything she said?"

His words were met by an uncomfortable silence, with Ianto pulling away from him and taking a seat at the table to his right. He looked as if he was fighting an inner battle, debating if he should lie to his captain and tell him that he had not considered Lucy's words at all, or if he should just come out with it. His hands found one of the abandoned folders and started to play with the edge of it nervously. Finally, he took a breath and started talking, letting out all that he had kept to himself these few days.

"She knew so much about what was going on with me," Ianto started quietly. "She seemed to notice me when no one else spared me a thought. She noticed my pain over you pining over Gwen. And I have to admit that it felt good to finally have someone to notice me. I thought about helping her, I'm not going to hide it and prove you right not to trust me." Ianto finished, his voice stronger now and his posture projecting defiance.

"So you considered it?"

"Yes, especially after you stopped trusting me to go out in the field, the moment you saw the two of us talking," Ianto confessed. He shuffled around in the chair, still playing with the folder until the corner bent and he cursed inwardly and started trying to smooth it back again. "I did consider it, I'm not going to lie, but that's all. I've learnt my lesson."

Jack nodded in approval and decided to move on to the next question before the discussion turned into an interrogation.

"So she knew all this?" Jack sceptically. She wasn't so bright, and her husband couldn't possibly have shown her the CCTV from the Hub, especially not the looks he and Gwen had exchanged. "How is that possible?"

"Tosh has the theory that she absorbed rift energy by being on top of the crack."

Jack nodded in understanding, wondering why Tosh hadn't informed him of that particular theory. She probably wasn't sure of it and didn't want to mention anything. God knows, they had too many speculations already. Jack stood up, putting an end to the meeting.

"OK, I'll see what progress the others have made and then I'll send them home," he said, dismissing Ianto, who followed his example and stood up, collecting the files with the reports to file them away.

"You can stay after hours, if you want," Jack added hopefully, before exiting the room.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Ok, here we finally are again. Chapter's a bit short but I have dragged it on for so long that I decided to post it like this before the story got the status of abandoned. God knows I've lost enough if not all my readers, this story is going for about two years now. I don't have much excuse apart of not having time to write, and feeling down.**

**A/N2: This chapter is un-betaed, as will be the rest and the other stories for the moment. The reason for this is because my beta have a lot going on at the moment and I can't ask her to do this for me. I'm not going to replace her in a hurry, because I still keep the hope that later on she will be my beta again. So if you see any obvious errors with spelling, grammar, sentence structure, wording, plot holes or characterisation, is not my beta's fault, is my own. And please can you point them in a review so I can correct them? **

* * *

><p>He was sure that in every action movie at that point he would look as the great super hero, breaking down the door in one swift, dramatic move before coming out of there with the sexy girl in his arms. The girl scared and a bit shocked but grateful to be rescued and not the worse for wear. Maybe she would give the hero a good, well deserved snog under the cheers of the rest of the policemen. As it was in reality, however, the Master didn't look all that graceful and dashing with his drenched clothes, rivulets of water dripping down from his hairline and into his eyes.<p>

The slow motion was due more to the fact that the floor was wet and neither he, nor Chris wanted to slip on it and break something before they had been able to reach Jo and actually carry on with the rescue. It would have been nice if it was even remotely due to a heroic, breath stopping and dramatic culmination. Alas it was not. Instead of the dreamed heroic actions of great success, it was wet and messy and…hell it was freezing inside. It would be a miracle if the girl had survived at all, however, in a last ditch attempt to be all action hero like and succeed more than Chris. He shouted.

"You have called for help."

Still the moment he shouted this, the Master felt like a right idiot, instead of all clever and heroic. It was also rather ruined by the grunt that effort to push the frozen in place door had emitted from him. Chris looking at him, as if he had suddenly sprouted another set of arms and an extra eye, didn't help the matter with his ego as well. Even the damsel in distress wasn't the proper beautiful and sexy girl who could keep her great looks even in the grave danger. Jo looked dishevelled and blue, almost like a frozen meat or a bad movie doll.

Shivering and with numb fingers the Master took off his leather jacket and wrapped it over the girl's shoulders. Not that it would do her much good, the jacket was wet and cold, covered in thin sheet of frost. Nevertheless, the girl fluttered her eyelids to open a crack and even managed to almost curve her lips up in smile at him.

"Chris, don't stay there gaping like an idiot, go find some thermal blankets from the medical staff," the Master barked at Skelton, who was looking as if the ice in the freezer had instantly frozen him on place. He shook himself, the Master's voice pulling him out of his stupor and with a barely audible mutter of, 'Yes, boss', hurried out to carry on with the task.

"Ok, let's get you out of 'ere, an' warmed up," the Master said lifting Jo up and carrying her out into the main building to meet the rest of the team, hopefully someone would have thought to go out and bring some hot tea or coffee. He wished wistfully for some of his taller incarnations, because although Jo was a tiny thing, he wasn't all that greater in height himself. This body was not build for physical tasks; in addition the position was made even more awkward by the sheer insanity of the situation of him being the one doing the rescue. The Doctor's assistant of all people.

The moment they reached the reception room he could hear the cat calls from his division and the rest of the plonks who came here after them. He glanced down at the girl in his arms who was stirring startled by the noise that greeted them.

"Kiss for the hero, kiss for the hero." Was chanted amongst whistles and he was sure that the prevalent voices were the Guv's and Ray's. It was a good thing that Jo was too out of it to go along with them and actually give her rescuer a kiss, because he wasn't sure that he could tolerate that on top of everything else, that and the look on Annie's face. If a look could kill, he was sure that his rescue attempt would have been in vain, because if the cold didn't kill Ms Grant then Annie's look would have.

Ignoring the cat calls, and wolf whistles from the rest of the team, the Master carried Jo towards the recently arrived ambulance and the waiting warm blankets and hot tea. The sooner he got rid of her, the sooner he would be able to see what they will do with his past incarnation. He needed to understand why he doesn't remember anything like this happening to him before, surely he should know how this all ends.

He felt the girl stir in his arms and snuggled more comfortable with a sniffle. Of course, for her he was just DI Tyler, not some dangerous demented alien, she had no reason not to feel secure in her rescuer arms.

"Accommodate yourself, don't mind me," the Master muttered, perhaps a bit more grumpily than intended.

"Umm…comfy," she just murmured not lifting her head from his chest.

"Did you just compare me to your sofa?" the Master snorted with amusement despite himself.

"'Course not. I can't do snuggled in my sofa, what I plan in doing snuggled with you."

The Master snorted again and hoped that Annie and the Doctor hadn't heard what she said. By the look of the Doctor's earlier incarnation, he had heard and wasn't much pleased.

Finally reaching the ambulance, he left Jo in the hands of the paramedics and the Doctor and made his way towards Gene and the rest of 'A' Division, where he hoped to find his other self still unconscious. What he found was, Litton and Gene arguing on who has the right to keep the man in question for interrogating. Well good luck with any one of them interrogating him, the Master just hoped that he wasn't going to be dragged in this one. _Fat lot of chance that. _

"Oi, Sammy-boy, tell this idiot 'ere that's not his investigation," Gene called and grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt, physically dragged him into the discussion. "There must be some point of yer regulations that you can come up with. You always do. Ya know some small print or somethin'."

"Learn your own rules book Geeno," Litton said smugly. "Drugs and weapons is my department."

"They're murders," Gene growled.

"With drugs," Litton pointed out. "Drugs for which you filed to send a report to me, my I point out."

"I'm sure there was a report," Gene threw his finished fag on the ground and angrily stamped on it with his boot. "Tyler, where's the report?"

Sighing resignedly the Master leaned on the car faking interest to the discussion and appearing in deep thought for a moment. It was apparent that he wasn't getting out of this one now that Gene had most likely deliberately dragged him there; he decided that he at least could have his fun with Litton.

"I'm sure I send it to you a couple of days ago via our PC terminal," the Master said thoughtful. "Wasn't there a new one in your department? Check yer mail, you should learn to use it."

Litton looked puzzled for a moment as if trying to remember who that PC might be and when they had started to work at his department, but then decided that the DI was just trying to make excuses and take the piss again.

"There's no new PC called Terminal in my department," he growled at the two cops from the CID.

"Oh, really?" the Master asked grinning and turned to look at Hunt. "Must've left it at Gene's desk then. Gene have you seen my report for Derek?"

"If it was at me desk, I've probably used it to wrap my sandwich in it an' threw it in the bin. No big loss anyway," Gene said barely supressing a grin.

"There you go then," the Master agreed with Gene returning the grin and folding his arms in indication that this discussion was closed.

It was a good strategy, the Master must admit, from Gene and the rest to keep around the cars under the cover and out of the rain. It took almost all the covered space and left Litton and his people half out into the pouring rain; of course it didn't do much to improve their mood.

Litton looked purple enough for a moment for the Master and the Doctor to wonder if he really was human, because humans should not be able to get that blue with anger. He knew a couple of races who could change colour and become dark purple when angry, but none of them looked that close to humans, in the end he had to concede that Derek was just really angry.

"This is still trespassing into my case and I'm takin' your last detainee into my custody," Litton said in the end with the air of finality and the look of triumph. "Please be a good boy and tell to your Sergeant to transfer him to my car."

With that Litton turned around quickly not wanting to leave Gene enough time to object or ruing the effect of DCI Derek Litton having the very last word in the meeting. Hastily retreating towards the RCS cars that had to be parked under the rain he looked sourly in the direction of 'A' team knowing that they had deliberately left his team out into the pissing sky. He made a quick stop to the Cortina and exchanged a few words with Chris, who looked towards Gene and the Master. They both nodded their, albeit grudge consent and he pulled the collar out of the car and handed him to Litton. The man was surprisingly polite and quiet for a criminal but then again he was very well dressed and posed as a lawyer, which probably meant he wasn't too bothered about staying with them for long.

"Litton's not gonna be able to handle 'im," the Master said to Gene nodding towards the car where the RCS DCI was pushing the earlier incarnation of the Master to enter. "Even UNIT have not been capable of doing it for long, Litton and his merry men are simply inadequate for the job."

Hunt turned around punching the wall one last time in frustration and looked at the Master who was still leaning on the front boot of the car as if their rival team hadn't just nicked Gene's case.

"Well that's gonna teach 'im for takin' over my cases," he spat on the ground and put a cigar in his mouth lighting it swiftly and pocketing the lighter back before taking a slow, long calming drag from the cigar. "We've still got the murdered bird."

"Not really, strictly speaking she was murdered by mummy alien big bastard monster. So is either UNIT or Torchwood who'd deal with it," the Master said still watching the constables milling around the premises and collecting evidence. They had found out one of the Time Lord's responsible, but there was still the Rani unaccounted for and the reptilian aliens and that was only the UNIT's cases. The CID was still to catch some of the drug dealers and try to find out how deep this new drug market had run.

"Well I'm not gonna let another one of my cases go down the drain," Gene said exhaling a tick cloud of smoke almost right in the Master's nous causing him to wave his hand to clear it from his face and screw his nose to the unpleasant smell.

Gene threw the remaining fag of the cigar on the ground and stubbed it with his food.

"Did Dr Smith say that 'e wanted the fella for UNIT custody?" Gene asked gruffly while circling the car to get to the driver's seat and opened the door.

"Cut 'im some slack Guv, he just had his assistant frozen half to death," the Master said and looked towards the Third Doctor's incarnation who was giving an ear-splitting to the paramedics who in his apparent opinion were incompetent idiots.

"We are going an' your collar just got nicked by another department," the Master hollered towards the two Doctors, who turned to look at him with almost uncanny unison and identical expression of disbelief.

"Who got him?" the 'pinstriped' Doctor asked with urgency. "Is very important to know, who's taken him."

The Master just leaned on the open passenger door of the Cortina and grinned arching his eyebrows. _This was going to be good,_ he thought with smug satisfaction. As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of that case and close it, he would love to have one up on the Doctor even if it was rather on the account of his past self than him. He looked at Gene who was a bit impatient to get going, but looked as if he had decided that worrying or annoying the Doctor was worth the delay.

"Oh, just this really incompetent DCI from a rival department in the station," Gene said and waved with a hand as if they were talking about some small robbery convict.

The Doctor opened his mouth to ask who that was, but the Master managed to butt in before him.

"DCI Litton, the man's an idiot. I don't think he would last in his custody too long," he said smirking at the Doctor knowing how important it was for the other Time Lord not to let the goatee wearing Master go free.

"Well what are we waiting then, let's go. No point in dawdling around here and chit chatting uselessly, there's work to be done and case to be closed," the Doctor said. Before the Master and Gene Hunt knew what had happened the Doctor had ran to the ambulance, shouted something at the other Doctor, who left Jo in the care of the paramedics and steered everyone inside the car, even Gene. He pushed Gene's car door shut in the Guv's perturbed face and jumped in closing his own door. "Come on then drive!"

The Master tried not to smirk, but it was hard when looking at Gene flustered face. Indignant the police chief started the engine and drove off back to the police station leaving the crime scene for the forensics on the scene and the plonks to take care of it.

* * *

><p>In the car of the RCS team the Master had finally started to make some conversation with the officers, or rather let them believe that he was interested in talking to them. In fact he was working towards their hypnosis the moment, the men had transferred him from one car to the other. The reason why he hadn't made an attempt to escape yet was that he was handcuffed, that and the rather full with police school courtyard. Even if he wasn't handcuffed it would have been immensely more difficult to sneak around two full teams of police officers, who were on full alert after finding the Doctor's assistant in the industrial freezer.<p>

It was going to be much easier now; he only needed to get the attention of the officers in the car so he could persuade them to let him go. He was really good at persuading people to do his bidding. The Master never intended to get anywhere near the station or possibly into the hands of UNIT as the Doctor had seemed to be planning for him. On the next traffic light, the Master looked into the rear-view mirror to make eye contact with Litton. If he managed to make Litton do what he wanted the others wouldn't be a problem since Litton was the one who made the decision in this small group of officers.

It wasn't too hard to persuade the police officers to let him go with only a few well places sentences and repeated command of '_I'm your Master and you will obey me'_, which even he had to admit if he was to be honest with himself was a bit of a cliché, but he seemed to be good in clichés in this particular incarnation. He sent the police officers on their merry way, with a wave 'goodbye', looking dazed and confused.

From there the next step was to find the ring that he had set up all this chain of robbery and murders about. Initially he had come to this mud ball of a planet because he had found a temporal anomaly signal coming from something originating on Gallifrey. When he had followed it the signal had led him to the goldsmith's shop where he had found the bio storage disguised as a ring. How it had found its way there was still a puzzle, one that the Master didn't really care about at the moment. Not wanting to get himself in something as mundane as a robbery, he had chosen the most elegant way of recruiting a gang that had already made a couple of robberies. Of course when the police had gone after them he needed to cover his tracks and the Rani was handy needing someone to experiment on. The only problem was that the police was onto them before he had the chance to go and collect the very item he had come for. Now that he was let out of the car and out of the police's hands, the Master had every intention to go and find the last two gang members left alive and collect his prize from them. Of course the payment that he had promised them will not be delivered. He had a payment of his own give them for cocking up a simple hit and run job.

He needed the ring because he was on his last regeneration and didn't fancy having to try and steal a body or the more complicated matter of some other Time Lord's regenerations. With the ring he only needed to store some of his DNA into it for further use and body resurrection. This way, he would have a solution for more than once and would not be pressed to go looking for bodies and regeneration energy time after time. The only downfall was that now he had no TARDIS and had to make his way around this backwards planet with no way out. The Rani had run away and with that effectively stranded him and left him without any civilized transportation.

He sought out the gang that he needed and with no time for pleasantries went straight to the business in hand, namely his ring. To say that it was an unpleasant surprise that the man in front of him told him they've sold the ring for bigger profit, since he never contacted them again after the robbery job and the killings, was an understatement. For his credit the man did try to find a plausible excuse that they were worried about all the cops that were sniffing around after the murders and wanted to get rid of some of the evidence as fast as they can. None the less, it did nothing to placated the Master's temper and he left the rest of the gang's bodies lying in the dirt on the concrete back alley of Manchester. His first aim was to find the ring.

* * *

><p>The rain which was incessantly falling down for almost the entire day was more than annoying but all things considered, the man currently stood on a boringly grey concrete roof overlooking the cityscape, found it to be satisfactory successful. He had obtained the object which he had come for to this backwards time and planet without much of a trouble. He offered the Neanderthals there a bit of money and they give him that ring willingly enough. He smiled imagining their faces when they find out that they can't use the money he gave them until 1980, oh well, it was close enough at least he hadn't given them some intergalactic money. Not sure they would of worked anyway, and no point in wasting good money. Although the ring that he was currently turning in his hand and caressing with his thumb was going to bring him much more money than he had to spent. Heavens only know how such a treasure had fallen in the hands of these people, but it was lucky that he had heard some rumours from a contact in a bar…<p>

The dealers looked as if they didn't know what to do with that ring for them it was, a normal if peculiarly looking enough, but he knew better. He'd always been told that the Time Lords were just a myth, but the money to be made was enough of a temptation. Beside it wasn't as if he cared about pulling a con if the ring wasn't genuine. It wasn't as if would be his first con. The money was worth the risk and then he could lay low for a while until the buzz dies, a bit of leisure in a nice out of the way spa planet with some pleasures on the side. Maybe he could finally afford to try that anti-gravity sex place that he and his ex-partner were planning on going to a long time ago, when they were still partners. Yep, he decided, sell the ting for as much money as he could, then anti- gravity sex and some great spa massage. With one more look at the unappealing grey cityscape the man pushed a few buttons on his wrist strap and swaggered (and that was the right word, because this man seemed to move by swaggering not merely walking) towards the rift that had opened in the mid-air on that roof.

_Oh, yes, this time Captain John Hart is going to be rich and show you all,_ he though before disappearing into the rift and going on his way towards the biggest black market planet that he could find.


End file.
